Polar Opposites
by WorldreaverPrime
Summary: It's supposedly Brains against Brawns, but for the Teen Titans, they may just get a surprise! Robin discovers and recruits a pair of misfits, fighters possessing equally powerful but completely opposite styles.
1. Chapter 1

**The Fury**

The day began like any other for Emma Rose. Awaking from a dreamless, restless sleep she groaned and mumbled a few choice words. She found herself in her apartment in the lower-class side of town, lying on her rather misshapen bed with the sheets all knotted and the covers kicked somewhere across the alcove that was her excuse for a proper bedroom, dressed in a sleeveless top and boxers. On a good day, the harsh glare of the morning sun would soar in through the smog-befouled window that opened up onto the street below her tenement and stab her right in her groggy eyes. On a bad day, the muted greyness of an overcast dawn would only dare her to stay in bed.

Despite what kind of day it was, she would curse the sun, curse the window, and then curse herself for having staid up as late as she did the night before. Then, and only then, would she drag herself into an upright position, stretch her arms and legs, mouth gaping in a rather impressive yawn as her joints popped and muscles strained in protest. That done, she got up, and decided to get moving. _After all_, she reasoned, _she got out of the damn bed. Might as well make something of the day!_ Her day wasn't much, really. She didn't really go to school, having dropped out two years ago around the age sixteen. Her parents, or what excuses she was cursed with, had attempted to keep her cooped up in some public school. School, however, did not mix well with Emma. Prone to fighting, and always blowing off homework, she had caused only headaches at home. Finally, her parents, seeing no alternative, sent Emma to live with a distant relation outside of Jump City. When her welcome was worn out there too, Emma was granted the right to stay at her own place in the city itself, provided that Social Services kept an eye on her. Yes, she didn't have school, but her craptastic - rated abode _did _have to be paid for. She had a job at an auto garage as a mechanic, being more mechanically inclined than anything else. The pay was alright, but the hours were tantamount to torture. She wasn't a morning person, and hardly felt like working into the wee hours of the evening, either. In the end, she put up with it, deeming the hardship necessary.

To make up for it, though, she did things on the side. For a while, she had fought in the hidden underground blood pits and fighting gangs. That had served to curb her need to periodically re-arrange someone's face the hard way without consequences, but hadn't done anything for her bottom line. Other odd jobs, where her rather remarkable strength and fighting prowess came into play, had come along. Noting too shady, though, because of the deep trouble she'd be in with the SS people. In fact, her current gig was serving as a bouncer at some two-bit grill and pub at the end of the block she lived on. She knew the place well, having been a regular for some time. The owner, a rather respectable old cuss, who went by the name Jeremiah Biggs, thought she might like the job. Biggs' Bite and Drought was known for being a particularly rowdy joint after ten at night, so she was never bored for long.

Today, she had work, and then she'd pop over to the Bite and Drought. She showered as best she could in what would pass for her bathroom, and threw on the least oil-mucked work uniform she had. Torn jeans, a white tank top, and her favorite workboots. The kind with steel-toes, the better for kicking ass. She stopped before the mirror that hung on the wall beside the door, cracked somewhat and a bit dirty. She appraised herself, her tall, strong physique. Her respectable muscles, her reason for wearing as few sleeves as possible. Her short, clean, but rarely styled hair. Her brown eyes, hard and never backing down. Her lips broke into a wild, confident grin as she winked at herself. She reached for the handle to open the door and head out. To her surprise, someone on the other side knocked. Immediately, she was set on edge, wary. She had next to no friends in the city, and never expected visitors. Emma grit her teeth, fists clenching and unclenching. _Probably some damn fool looking to ransack the place, thinking some sorry-ass drug addict lives here... I'll show them!_ Her left hand settled on the door and twisted, opening the door as soon as the latch disengaged. Her other hand, balled into a formidable fist, was already in motion.

To her surprise, a man in a black suit was standing on the other side of the door, and had already stepped to the side, avoiding her hasty pre-emptive attack. He quirked an eyebrow, and inquired in a low tone, "Is this how you always answer the door?"

A little perturbed, and very much caught off guard, Emma brought her fists up. "Who the fuck are you, pal?"

The man was unaffected by her terseness. He went on to ask, "Are you Emma Rose, the talented young woman who does the occasional odd job for hire? And, I hear, who fights in the Pit Viper Grand Melee as Fury?"

"Yeah, that's me! What's it to ya?!" Emma retorted, covering her surprise with a burst of outrage. The man smiled, slightly, and said, "To me, it is of the utmost importance. I come with another 'odd job' for you, Miss. Rose. As I understand it, your pretty good in a fight. Is this correct?"

Emma was really getting pissed off, now. If the sneer on her face was any indication, she was mere seconds away from seriously fucking this guy up. "What, you want a demonstration or something?! I'd be happy to use you as a dummy..."

The man actually smiled all the more, "No need to get so physical, ma'am. I must know if your as good as all the hype. But, if your only going to answer me with threats and insults, that must mean you are not interested. Too bad, as people will begin to think that you are afraid. I understand completely, and I shall have to go and look elsewhere for someone with the proper steel this job requires..."

_That's it!_ Emma grabs the guy by the front of his suit, and shouts practically in his face, "Fury is never afraid, asshole! Tell me about your fucking job, and I might just do it for ya!"

The man replied, "Well, that's the attitude I was expecting from you, Fury. If you'd kindly release me, I'll inform you of the specifics." Emma obliged him, taking a step back with arms folded under her chest, she waited until the guy had straightened his suit's front and cleared his throat. "Now, down to business. I represent a certain organization within the city, a collection of influential businessmen and merchants who would rather not be revealed by name at this time. My employers have tasked me with procuring a third party, specifically you, to take care of a loose end for us."

Emma narrowed her eyes at the man, "I think I know where this is going. By loose end, you mean you want me to put someone six feet under, right?"

"Essentially." The man replied, clasping his hands behind his back. Emma shook her head, "No way, pal! Any job but a shady one, that's what I'll do. This sounds shady. Sorry, but go find your hired help elsewhere!"

The man's smile disappeared in an instant. He unclasped his hands, and now they hung at his sides. "Miss Rose, don't let a little conscientious quibble like this stop you. My employers are prepared to pay whomever I hire a substantial amount of money. The profits from this little job could be well in the millions, if you are lucky. Even if you are not, even a hundred-thousand would be more money than you will ever lay eyes on, otherwise. After all, you never really went far during the Grand Melee, did you? I hear tell that the Fury was defeated within the first round of combat. How shameful, to make it that far, only to loose the cash prize so early! Are you going to be loser for a second time?"

Emma was both extremely pissed, and somewhat interested. The allure of making that much money was strong, but at the same time her convictions and the fact that this guy had to stoop to insulting her honor and skill as a fighter bothered her immensely. In the end, though, she took a deep breathe and decided to take the practical option. "Fine, I'll do it, but this is the one and only time! If I ever see you again after this, I swear to god, that I'll smash your face into the back of your skull!"

The man laughed, as if what she said didn't frighten him, but amuse him instead. As if she had delivered the punch line to some great joke. That made her seethe inside, but she kept a hold on her anger. "So glad to see that you saw things our way, Miss Rose." He reached into his pant's pocket and pulled out a small photograph. He presented it to her. After a momentary hesitation, she took the item from him and looked at it. The face that stared back at her belonged to a young man, around her age. He was short, thin, and had a sort of face that one forgot quickly after seeing it. Short, black hair, grey eyes, eyes that gave a hint of Asian ancestry. Eyes framed by rather stylish glasses.

Emma snorted in dismissal, "Who's this? Don't tell me this is your 'loose end' I have to take care of? C'mon, this guy looks like a limp noodle!"

The strange man frowned. "I wouldn't underestimate him, Miss Rose. This young man, though unassuming and rather weak in appearance, is one of the most deadly assassins-for-hire the crime world has ever known. My employers had an exclusive contract with him for some time, but unfortunately, relations fell through. He walked away from his end of the deal, and summarily broke ties. My employers fear that he might decide to come after them sometime in the near future, and are taking pre-emptive measures to ensure he doesn't become a liability they will regret."

Emma snickered derisively, "Oh really? This guy, a deadly assassin-for-hire? Don't make me laugh! I could break this punk's neck like a toothpick without even trying! C'mon, who's the real target?"

The man in the suit looked entirely serious. He cleared his throat, and said, "Miss Rose, I assure you, what I am saying is serious business. This young man, this assassin, was known as Ghost. He was sighted by my employer's informants in this city, Jump City. He cannot be allowed to live any longer. You said you would take the job, are you going to back out now?"

Emma shook her head, "No way, I'll do it, but just this once! And, I better be paid when this is over. It better be worth it!"

The suited man smiled again, "Excellent, I knew I could count on you, Fury. We shall meet again, I assure you. I wish you an exceedingly nice day!"

He turned to go, but before he could walk very far down the hall, she called out, "Hey! What about my money! How will you know if I have done the job or not?"

The man didn't break stride nor did he bother turning around to face her, and merely said , "Oh, don't worry about that, Miss Rose... We'll be keeping a close eye on things around here for now. We'll know, let's just keep it at that. And, when the time comes, I will visit you again with a certain briefcase filled with your bounty."

Then, he disappeared around the corner of the hall. A moment later, she heard him as he descended the creaking, dilapidated excuse for stairs down to the ground floor of the tenement building. A slam said he had exited the premises, and was gone. Emma was left with the small photograph of the young man referred to as "Ghost" sitting in the palm of her hand. She looked down at the picture once more, staring intently, as if to burn the image of this face into her mind. Then, abruptly, she clenched her hand into a fist, and crumbled the picture into an unrecognizable ball.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Ghost**

The day began like so many others before it for the young man known to many as the Ghost, but few by his real name. But, that was fine with him. He preferred being inconspicuous and rather like his anonymity. Like his namesake, he was like that spiritual being few ever truly saw, but always could sense the presence of. Even now, surrounded by other people on a crowded bus inbound to Jump City, no one knew of him. He was just what they saw on the outside, just what he wanted them to see.

He marveled at his training that allowed him to do so, the rigorous program that had been seared into his memory and muscles so long ago. He couldn't help but be amazed, that even now after having decided to end his death-dealing days, that the cold thoughts and concepts kept with him. He frowned inside himself, keeping a face that was unreadable on the outside, and decided to push away thoughts of the past. Instead, he decided to look to the future. Turning in his seat, he looked out the windows towards the approaching city scape, the high rise skyscrapers and the bustle of the urban environment. There, in Jump City, he hoped to start a new life. Rent an apartment, find a job, blend in with the citizens of that metropolis and hope that his past life did not catch up with him. His former employers would probably be very peeved right now, and most likely, frightened. They would probably send hired agents to go looking for him, to make sure he could never threaten them. He didn't blame them, in that respect. It was the practical thing to do. After all, what kept him from turning around and doing what he had done to their victims to them? It would be well justified, without the allure of cold hard cash to entice him. On the other hand, blood calls for blood, and he was also sure that friends and family of those he had visited with fatal intent might come looking for vengeance. He now pitied those he had a hand in killing, and pitied those who were close to them. At the same time, he still wished to live, and though he did not deny culpability, he would not lay down his life in exchange for their satisfaction.

No, he would like to just hide and let things gloss over. However, he knew he had no guarantees, and so settled for the hope that a place like Jump City might be just big enough, convoluted enough to shelter him.

The bus eased to a stop at the station moments later. People onboard gathered up their belongings and stood, forming a single orderly line to disembark. Ghost followed them off the vehicle, a duffel back in one hand by the straps. Inside, he kept his few worldly possessions that he deemed absolutely necessary. A change of clothing, toiletries, and his "tools of the trade". The components to his assassin's kit. That, plus the outfit he wore, and the bundle of money he kept in his right jacket pocket, he had little else. Within the station, he allowed himself to be swallowed by the crowds of milling people, coming this way and going that way. He gazed around and took in all the sights. _Yes_, he thought, _I might be able to fade in, here_. Then, he decided to amble on, and chose a direction at random and walked off.

He walked for a long time. He had no watch, no way to reckon time as it passed. All he noticed was that the flow of people had ebbed, and that he had somehow found himself in a rather rundown side of town. In fact, now that he stopped and looked around, he may have made a grave error in judgement by just walking off in any direction at will. He was lost, although that seemed a little silly, considering he had no idea where he was going in the first place. Then he noticed that he was being watched, felt eyes following him from afar. Looking from the corner of his eyes as to be discrete, he spied a trio of rough looking individuals standing at the mouth of a dark alleyway. They looked like trouble, dressed in clothes suggesting a possible gang affiliation, and seemed to be built for trouble. Tall of stature and wide with muscle. Ghost hoped he wouldn't have any sort of confrontation with them, as it would most definitely turn out to be nasty. Nasty for the hoodlums, that is. He would defend himself, no doubt about that. But his conscience would nag him for hours afterwards, beating such ignorant fools into senseless broken forms.

However, much to his horror and surprise, the threat did not come from them, but from behind. At first, he heard the approaching report of running footsteps. Someone was charging him from behind! In the next instant, he felt his duffel bag ripped from his grip as the aggressor ran past, dashing away with all speed.

"Hey!" Ghost shouted, immediately giving chase, "Bastard! Come back here!" And so the chase began, down one street, up another, down yet a third. The thief managed to keep a few steps ahead of Ghost. This person was about his height and of a more slender build, wearing an oversized coat with a hood, jeans, and boots. At the end of the third street, the thief ducked into an alley. Ghost, surprised at the sudden change of direction, skidded to a stop and darted in after his query. Ahead, he grinned in satisfaction to notice that a brick wall rose. This alley was a dead end, and this thief was trapped.

The little pissant was looking for any way to keep up the chase, but found that there was no such luck. The thief whirled, sensing that Ghost was closing in. A flash of metal told him that his foe, in desperation, had drawn a switchblade knife and had brandished it in an effort to ward him off.

"Back off! It's mine!" the thief shouted, face revealed for the first time. Ghost was surprised to see such an effeminate face. Combined with such a shrill voice, surely this young man must be made a fool abroad. Ghost realized that the little bastard was only trying to prove himself tough. "Ya hear me, back off!"

"Listen, kid, that bag doesn't belong to you. You'd better give it back before I have to come and take it from you." Ghost called out, inching closer.

"Yeah, right, as if some four-eyes is going to take anything from me!" the thieving kid yelled, "Hey! I said, back off! Come any closer, and I'm going to spill your red!"

At this point, Ghost decided against saying anything further. The kid was scared, but not scared enough to find him so much of a threat as to relinquish his prize. _Sometimes_, Ghost thought to himself, _being so un-intimidating_ _has it's downs_. He would have to provoke an action, one that his training would allow him to counter and reverse to his benefit. The kid charged, playing right into Ghost's hands. A straight-thrust with the knife ended abruptly as Ghost half-turned out of the way, grasped the kid's arm at the wrist, and gave a sharp twist. With a yelp, the kid lost feeling in that hand. Limp fingers dropped the knife. With a gasp, the kid looked up into the eyes of the tormentor and saw no remorse.

"Now that we understand each other better, I'll ask you again, hand over the bag." Ghost grated, speaking in terse tones. He tightened his hold on the thief's wrist as addition emphasis.

"Ow! Your hurting me! Let go!"

"That's right, I am. And, unless you want me to break this arm of yours, you'll had over my things!" Ghost replied, no less as stern. The bag dropped, and the thief said, "There! You happy now? Let me go!"

"As you wish." Ghost replied. He relinquished his grip, and the little scamp started to run for the end of the alley. However, after three steps, the thief stopped. Ghost looked and saw the reason why the thief had frozen. The three thugs from earlier, the ones who had been watching him, stood at the end of the alleyway. One held a aluminum baseball bat, another a length of bicycle chain, a third was rubbing the brass knuckles on one fist. _Today, is not my day_. Ghost thought to himself.

The three ruffians started forward at a leisurely pace, walking abreast of each other as they came. Wicked smiles played across their unshaven faces. Ghost knew the kind, those who thought themselves stronger and thus given the right to terrorize and oppress the weak. He had sent many a brute like that to an early demise back in his death-dealing days. He pondered whether he'd tack on three more in his retirement. The thief, trembling visibly now, scrambled back as the gang members closed in. Remembering that Ghost was there, the thief grabbed a hold of him. "Hey! Do something, will ya! We're going to get our red spilt all over the place!"

Ghost shrugged the little pissant off, "Idiot! Though you obviously don't deserve it, I'll take care of them for you. Stay out of my way, and you might not get hurt."

The thief was stunned into silence. Ghost put his hands in his pant's pockets and started forward to meet the gang members. He was already formulating a plan to even the odds against his foes, and it wouldn't work nearly half was well as he would hope unless he was surrounded.

The thug that styled himself the leader spoke then, seeing this short and rather weak-looking young man striding undaunted toward them. "Well, looky here, boys! A coupla runts caught like rats in the corner!"

"Yeah, that one looks like he just stepped off the bus from stupid-town! Better teach him a lesson, Rico, to smarten him up!" the second thug crowed, palming his chosen weapon menacingly.

The third thug laughed, "Oh, we're going to do more than give him a lesson! We're going to beat them both within an inch of their lives, and then leave 'em to rot!"

The first thug, Rico, now stood within an arm's length of Ghost. His two comrades were on his left and right flanks, and a little behind him. Rico sneered, leering down at his intended prey, the bicycle chain in his hand swaying. "Well, kid, say your prayers!" The bat was raised on high, the chain whirled for the strike, and arm pulled back to deliver a blow.

At that moment, Ghost smirked. He ducked within a fraction of a second before the incoming attack. The bat intercepted the fist, and both the bat and the fist were bound up by the incoming chain. Shouts of surprise, pain, and consternation arose from all sides. Ghost reacted without pause. Before the thug with the chain could drop his weapon, he grabbed the outstretched hand and pulled. The thug jerked forward unexpectedly, Ghost turned and presented his shoulder. The man slammed chest-first into him, and was tossed over his shoulder into the scum with the bat. Both men slammed against the wall on the far side of the alleyway and slumped into a heap on the ground, senseless. The man with the brutalized fist swore savagely and backed up before charging with his good fist cocked back. Ghost took note of him out of the corner of his eye, and turned just as the punch was thrown. He ducked under the fist, and jabbed with a tightly curled fist into the man's side, just under the armpit at a key point. The man froze as if he had been paralyzed, eyes starting from his head as his mouth gaped in unbelievably agonizing pain.

Ghost was inwardly proud, his surgical nerve-strike attack still spot-on as ever, even after all this time. Sufficiently immobilized, the unmoving thug proved a perfect target as he spun, leg coming up and out like a scythe, before smashing the heel of his right foot like a cannonball into the side of the man's face. There was a sickening crack, and the man shot up and backwards as if from an explosion. When he landed, the thief gasped. The man's jaw had been dislocated by the force and precision placement of the devastating roundhouse. Ghost stood amidst the three, unharmed. He had hardly moved from his starting position. He turned, his steely gaze falling upon the thief. The thief looked back up at Ghost, mouth agape.

The Ghost put his hands back into his pockets, inclined his head. "So, now I suggest you scamper off to whatever hole you crawled out of, kid. The first time was a freebie, but if you get jumped by any more thugs, it's your funeral. Not my problem." With that said, he strode past the unmoving child, and reclaimed his belongings. Then, he turned and left the alleyway. The thief, still mesmerized the rapid precision and savage efficiency of Ghost's counterattack. Ghost was too far away to hear the words tumble from trembling lips, "My God...!"


	3. Chapter 3

**The Hidden**

He watched as the clock struck nine, the digital numbers glowing red in the near-darkness of his room. He sat at his desk, overburdened with paperwork of all sorts several layers deep, with arms crossed over his chest, and leaned back in his seat. Robin, Leader of the famed Teen Titans, sat pondering with himself in the dim light of his quarters within the tower. Not on the facts of the latest crime thwarted, or perhaps even the latest villain. No, the Boy Wonder was contemplating his latest habit, one of which he knew wasn't inherently bad but puzzling, even to him.

For several weeks now, Robin had taken a habit of dressing in rather inconspicuous clothing, the kind in which it was easy to fade and blend in, in order to prowl the streets of the city at night. At first, it was just as a means of relaxing himself, when the rigors of his station of leader and the life of a crime fighter got to him sometimes. But then, as was his wont, he found a more practical use for it. He began hearing things in his nightly sojourns, information divulged by those who swore they were safe and sound in the dark they were so familiar with. Unbeknownst, that their gravest enemy lurked along with them in the dark. In this manner, he had managed to single-handedly thwart several criminal enterprises before they were formally organized. However, it didn't take long for his team, or perhaps an especially perceptive empath, to figure out what was going on. And from that point on, any attempt at discretion was a lost cause. Surprisingly enough, the rest of the team didn't seem to mind. Well, at least they said they didn't mind. But, that wasn't the point. Robin now thought deeply of a little establishment he had discovered not too long ago, a small bar and grille in the lower end of town. Some would say the slums, but that was only a matter of perspective and opinion. There, Robin had decided to stake out, and watch for criminal activity. Shady individuals liked to congregate there, and where there's smoke, there's usually fire. He suspected it was a den of criminal intent. He only needed to prove his hunch correct. The only way that was going to get done was by returning there and continuing his work.

So, he waited. Like clockwork, he heard the sounds of his fellow Titans as they passed his quarters and went to their rooms. As soon as he heard the last door slide shut, he smiled in the dark. "It's that time of the night, again..."

Elsewhere in the Titan's Tower, a second person waited in the dark. Like the Boy Wonder, this individual was also well accustomed to the darkness. Raven sighed as she heard the tell-tale sounds of whisper-quiet movement from her leader's room. The gentle hum of the elevator as it made it's way back down to the ground floor, so quiet and yet so familiar as not to be alien in the ambient audioscape of the tower at night. She padded barefoot over to the window she usually kept shut and covered with pitch-black curtains. With one hand, she moved one curtain just enough to see down the many stories to the ground below at the foot of the tower. A lone figure steps out of the tower's main entrance and makes it's way towards the bridge connecting the island with the city on the mainland across the bay. "There he goes again, just like I thought he would. Just like he said he wouldn't." She shook her head, "Figures..."

Robin didn't feel as if he could relax until he was well away from bridge, the tower disappearing into the horizon as he walked along the cracked concrete of the sidewalks. Hands in his pockets, he walked along projecting a formidable aura, headed in the direction of his destination on this particular night. Those who stood in his way, or attempted to, quickly got out of his path as he approached. _That's just as well, because the fewer people I rough up tonight, the better_. Robin thought to himself. _I don't need much attention, if I can help it at all_. Luckily, he didn't encounter any trouble on his way. Moments later, he spied the Bite and Drought, sitting between to rundown buildings. Taking a deep breathe, he crossed the street and made his way towards it. Just as he approached the open front door, with the harsh glare of artificial light pouring out like water into the dark of night, someone was roughly ejected out into the street. Robin winced involuntarily as the subject slammed into the unforgiving pavement. The evictor was a tall, tough looking young woman maybe a year older than Robin, with blonde hair cut short and dressed in street fighter's clothes: torn jeans, boots, wife beater, and biker's gloves. She clapped her hands as if cleaning them and placed her fists triumphantly on her hips.

"And that's how I take out the trash! That'll teach ya to try and make trouble while I'm around." Seeing Robin staring, she turned and shook a menacing fist at him. "Whaddya you lookin' at, pipsqueak?! Ya want summa this?!"

Robin, ever the masterful actor, feigned fear and weakness, "No, please don't hurt me! I'm not looking for a fight!"

The tough young woman smirked, her grin like that of a big predatory cat, "Damn straight, you don't! Now, if your gonna come in, come in! But don't let me catch you messin' around, or else you'll take a one-way ride on the Fury express!" With that, she turned and marched back into the building.

Robin breathed a sigh of relief and followed after her. Inside, he quickly took a table in the corner closest to the door. Many of the other tables were already occupied nearly to capacity. Filthy sorts, most of them, always looking over their shoulders at everyone else. Robin saw many of them with possibly concealed weaponry of various sorts. Most of them were eating, drinking, and generally carousing with one another. He saw nothing particularly interesting, or heard anything for that matter, aside from the usual waiting staff moving about, taking orders and filling them. He glanced at the watch around his right wrist, it was nearly ten o'clock. He'd stay until sometime after midnight, and then head back if nothing happened. He signaled a rather pretty waitress and put in an order for a drink, a simple soda. She gave him a look, but he ignored her and she went off about her business. Robin, the hidden hero amidst this crowd of villainy, settled in for a long night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Turn with the Blow**

Time passed slowly in the Bite and Drought. Robin leaned back in his seat, the back of the chair touching the wall with his feet up on the table. A cold root beer sat nearby, it's classic bottle cap twisted off. The cold, caffeinated drink kept him alert and awake. An hour and a half had passed, and nothing worthy of more than a cursory glance had taken place. Some of the establishment's patrons had left and others had come. Particularly four ruffians who sat down at the table mere feet from Robin's. One of them, a rat-faced individual with beady eyes and a shifty demeanor, produced a pack of cards from within his trenchcoat. He and his compatriots then ordered up some drinks and food, and settled down to play a series of poker matches, with money as the stakes.

Robin watched them for a while, but lost interest. They were all horrible poker players, except for the man who seemed to own the cards. He was swiftly making a killing while his buddies bemoaned their losses. The tough young girl whom Robin had seen toss out an unruly patron as he was coming in, the one who referred to herself as 'Fury', leaned against the doorframe of the main entrance, and kept a wary eye on everyone in the place. Several times, she had caught him staring, and he had been forced to look away lest he stir up her ire again. Luckily, something else diverted her attention. A young man stepped through the doors at that point, dressed in nearly all black: jeans, shirt, jacket. Robin studied him for a moment, this newcomer. Short, shorter than Robin, with nearly the same wiry and agile build, dark hair, grey eyes and glasses. The Boy Wonder also noted the faint echoes of eastern heritage. Japanese? Chinese? Korean? Robin couldn't tell, the traces were so faint. The young man had his hands in his pockets as he stood and surveyed the room. His stormy gaze took the whole room in, alighting ever so slightly longer on Robin before stopping on the thugs playing poker.

The stranger walked over, unfrightened and completely at ease. "Hey, can a fellow join in?"

The thugs froze in the midst of their game and looked up at him with leering expressions. Beady-Eyes, as Robin took to calling him, replied, "Fuck off, half-pint! This here's a man's game, and there ain't no way a little kid like you is going to muck it up!"

"Yeah, go home to your mother, you scrawny street urchin!" another man, one that Robin had labeled Hawk Nose on account of his protuberant nose, at the table piped in. The stranger smirked, still not intimidated. He pulled his right hand out of it's pocket to reveal the healthy stack of cash he had in his hand. "Oh, that's too bad... And here I was all ready to play."

Beady-Eyes, Hawk Nose, and the other two scallywags exchanged surprised glances. Then, with grins that promised ill-intent, Beady-Eyes replied, "Heh, just kiddin', bucko! If ya wanna play, then ya can play. But, don't expect us to go easy on ya!"

At this remark, the others laughed darkly. Robin watched as the stranger casually pulled up a chair and took a seat at their table. He narrowed his eyes and replied, "Just cut me a hand, already."

_Man, I gotta hand it to that guy... he's sure got a lot of guts. I just hope he doesn't get in over his head._ Robin thought to himself, watching the game as it resumed. Fifteen minutes in, the balance of power was thrown out the window. For some unexplainable reason, the stranger kept getting impeccable hands. He consistently won the pot, no matter the stakes. He even beat Beady-Eyes. The thugs at the table shifted uneasily, growling and muttering under their collective breathe. Robin watched carefully as the next hand was dealt, watching the stranger carefully. Suddenly, it became all too clear what he was doing. He had another pack of cards hidden up his sleeve, and with speed and efficiency Robin had only observed in his mentor, Batman, he exchanged his low-value cards for a set that would win him the round. _Clever_... Robin mused, watching with amusement as the lowlifes lost more of their money, _But, they'll figure it out soon if this keeps up._ It kept up for another half-hour, the stranger taking any extra high-value cards and sequestering them in his sleeve to keep the total number of cards within normal parameters. By this time, the thugs had lost nearly all the cash they had on them, and were seething none-to-subtly. The stranger, if he knew his danger, ignored it. Instead, he grinned wide and pulled his winnings close to his side of the table, saying, "Well, gentlemen, it was fun while it lasted, but I must take my leave now!"

"That's it!" Beady-eyes cried, standing up so abruptly that his chair was knocked over, "I don't know how you did it, kid, but I know you cheated! There's no way you could have won all that money!"

"Yeah, we're the best poker players in the Bite and Drought, and there ain't no way some punk of a whelp is going to beat us!" Hawk Nose piped up, also standing.

The stranger kept grinning, "Well, you may have been the best, but things change. Maybe you've just lost your game?"

That statement made things even worse. "Lost my game?! LOST MY GAME!? I'll show you whose lost his game!" With a savage cry, he tipped the table with a shove. Money, food, drink, and silverware clattered to the ground. At this time, the other patrons looked over, some warily and others with more expectation than horror. They hoped for a good brawl.

Robin tensed at his table, preparing to intervene should the thugs take a more physical approach. He glanced over and saw Fury preparing herself too, fists clenched and eyes fixed on the stranger. _Come to think of it, she's been watching that guy the entire time he's been here. Heh, she must be able to pick out the troublemakers..._ Robin surmised to himself. The stranger still remained seated, his hands now on his knees, his grin having dissolved to nothing. His face betrayed no emotion, save for perfect calm. "Alright, buddy, take it easy. No need to get worked up over a simple game, right?"

Beady-Eyes was livid, shouting at the top of his lungs, "Wrong, shrimp! Ya made a fool of us! We don't take kindly to that, and now you're gonna get just what asshole show-offs get! A good-old fashioned gang-beatin'!"

That was the cue. As if an imaginary bell had been rung, the place burst into action. Beady-Eyes threw a hasty straight punch at the stranger's face. The stranger, Robin expected, should have gotten up to defend himself. Instead, he sat completely still, and then simply pushed with his toes. His chair tilted back, taking his head out of the line of attack, and putting his feet into strike position. With a little shove with his hands on the floor, he launched out of the upset chair like a spring, flying up over the incoming fist like a ballistic missile to plow into the thug's face. He then flexed his legs at the knee and back flipped off the man like a diving block. Just in time, too, because Hawk Nose and one of the other men at the table and decided to throw matching straight punches from opposite directions, hoping to catch him in a punishing double-attack. Unfortunately, he sudden change of motion allowed their attacks to miss-align and crash into each other's face with all their fervor. The fourth man attempted to punch the stranger, but he gracefully weaved around the attack. He lashed out with a single hand, actually two fingers. He stabbed at a location just under the man's armpit. It was the lightest of touches, but Robin could tell that it had struck somewhere vital. The man gave out a half-strangled cry and collapsed like a hewn tree. Then, the stranger was out the door.

All this happened before Robin even got out of his seat. In the very brief span of time that action took, the stranger had quickly and efficiently used both his environment and his enemies' woefully predictable behavior to defend himself. That in itself wasn't suspicious, but the way in which he had moved, in the way he had struck that one man, it all seemed frightfully familiar. Robin had a hunch that the stranger probably was more than what met the eye. He glanced down at the four men so easily reduced to moaning, pathetic piles and surmised that Fury would toss them out in short order in lieu of actually beating them. But when he looked around, he noticed that the rather brash young woman was gone. He pondered where she could have gone, and it suddenly dawned on him. The way Fury had watched the stranger so intently, almost as if she recognized him, but wasn't sure it was the person she thought it was. She had disappeared moments after the stranger, after he obviously proved her suspicions. Robin wasn't sure, but another hunch told him he'd better tag along after her. And, his hunches had never let him down before.

The stranger, none other than Ghost, now walked the streets of the city at night. The rush and thrill of combat still pulsed through his veins, and his mind raced with the power and speed with which he had struck. He couldn't deny he had missed turning himself into a tool of lethal expertise, but he now had to regain control of himself.

"Those idiots deserved what they received. They were too paranoid for their own good. Then again, perhaps I shouldn't have been so blatant in my exploitation... Hmmm, yes... Should have let them win a few times..." he mused to himself as he walked, hands in his pockets. He was sorely aware of the fact that he had lost the remainder of his cash reserve in the heat of the moment, but that was of little consequence. At least he wouldn't have a boring evening. He had suddenly become aware that he was being followed. Watched, as he had been at that restaurant. Not out of curiosity, as the fellow with shades had. No, he was being hunted, and he could guess who was the predator in this game. He turned his head ever so slightly and looked with the corner of his eyes into his glasses. The angle of the glass created a faint reflection of what was behind him, like a mirror, and in that mirror he spied the blonde girl from the restaurant, the self-styled bouncer. She was following him, though she hung a ways back and was walking softly so as not to alert him with the echo of her boots on the concrete of the sidewalk. And, she was closing in, taking longer strides to close the distance.

That was enough. Ghost's mind didn't have to ponder who would have sent someone after him, or whether or not this particular individual had the abilities and willingness to threaten him. He already knew the answers to both of those questions. Whether his pursuing foe realized it or not, the battle had already begun!

Emma had thought she had found her target, but didn't want to blow her cover just yet. Well, when the little pissant then went and picked a fight with those thugs, and then proceeded to OWN them, that was when she decided to take action. Only, she didn't know what do to. The weird-ass guy had mentioned that this guy, this Ghost person, was dangerous. A killer. But not how. He never told Emma that the guy moved so fast. But, speed wasn't everything. Even now, she followed her query. He walked along seemingly preoccupied ahead of her. She'd just gradually walk up behind him, get him in a headlock, and break his neck before he could pull any of that fancy shit on her. That's what she thought, up until she realized he had decided to take a detour into an alley. She stopped, puzzled. Had he seen her? Heard her, perhaps? She didn't think so, though she had to admit to herself that stealth was not her thing. In fact, if she had followed instincts, she would have clobbered him back at the Bite and Drought. But, then again, he was supposedly new to the city. Perhaps he was lost? Lost people often found themselves in a dead end, and Emma knew this alleyway emptied into a vacant lot surrounded on three sides by the concrete walls of adjacent buildings. A perfect trap, if ever there was one!

Abandoning stealth, she charged down the alley and around a corner, only to find the vacant lot... vacant. She looked around, now more puzzled than before. "Where is he?" She muttered to herself, "I knew I saw him come back here!"

"Looking for me?" a voice suddenly said from behind her. She whirled and saw that Ghost had stepped out of the shadows and now blocked her only exit. Arms crossed over his chest, he didn't look at all threatened. Curious, suspicious, but not threatened. Emma desperately wanted to change that. "So, you must be Ghost. You certainly live up to your name, skulkin' around like that."

"Yes, I find my moniker rather fitting. Who might you be?" Ghost replied. Emma smirked, and jabbed a thumb at her chest, "I'm Fury! Perhaps you've heard of me? I fought in the Pit Viper Grand Melee!"

The expression on his face, if there was one, was that of one not impressed. "Can't say that I have, actually."

Emma, or Fury, fumed inside. "Never mind that! You must already know why I followed you."

"I do." Ghost said, "And, I think it only fair to say, that they've put you up to an impossible task. I don't want to have to hurt you, but make no mistake, I will if you attack!"

"Ooooh, ya have me shakin' in my shoes, kid!" Emma crowed, "But, it's going to take a little more than that to scare me away!"

Ghost sighed, his arms falling to his sides. "Fine, then. Just remember, I warned you." Emma snickered harshly, her fists coming up loaded, ready to fight. "Heh, and just _you_ remember, this is nothin' personal... I just need the money!"

A moment of silence fell over the lot as the two young combatants stared at each other. Then, abruptly, Ghost broke into a run. Emma blinked, surprised at how fast and suddenly his advance had begun. Then, she smirked, and braced herself for a one-hit KO. Ghost was nearly upon her when her right fist shot out in a lightning quick jab. She hit nothing but air, as Ghost ducked in mid-step with split-second reflexes to avoid her attack. He hit her three times for her one, quick stinging jabs to the stomach. Emma gave ground, grunting in pain. Ghost didn't let up, and whaled her square in the face with a quick rabbit-punch. That hurt too, and it was the fact that it hurt that made Emma mad. And when Emma was mad, she was at her best.

With a bellowing warcry, she actually ran _into_ the next punch, her anger overpowering any pain that may have been felt with someone of lesser will. She was the next to strike, throwing short-range bombs that, had they connected, would have KO'D anyone. But, much to her continuing irritation, Ghost weaved and ducked like a drunken fool, seemingly putting himself off balance but always managing to keep himself firmly grounded. But, he didn't appreciate just how badly Emma wanted to punch him at that moment, and usually what Emma wanted, Emma got. Eventually, a punch connected, the sound of her knuckles connecting with Ghost's chin was sharp and loud, like the report of a gun. Ghost grunted in surprised pain, spitting blood as he staggered backward. He worked his jaw, rubbed his chin, "How odd, you hit me..."

"Jackass! That's the whole point!" Emma retorted, raging on like a tidal wave. Deciding to shake things up, she lashed out with short, powerful kicks. Ghost avoided most of them, but caught one. However, before he could find a way to use his grip to his advantage, Emma jumped, spun, and launched her other leg at him. Swearing quite loudly, Ghost was forced to relinquish his grip and drop to the ground, lest his neck be snapped by the passing of Emma's heel. Emma landed, smiling wickedly, before launching her foot up and then back down sharply. Seeing the incoming heel axe-drop, Ghost rolled. And it was a lucky thing too, because Emma had concentrated on that last attack, and her heel smashed a nice little crater into the pavement. The former assassin gawked briefly from where he had rolled to his feet, then looked up at Emma.

Emma chortled, met his bewildered gaze with her own confident glare. "What's the matter, shrimp? Afraid of strong women?" She charged, again taking another vicious blow from the assassin, this time directly to the sternum, but planted a devastating front kick to his chest. Luckily, Ghost remembered to anticipate the attack and move with it. He looked as if he was flying backwards, recovered in the next moment with a half-tumbling flip, and was on his feet again for the retaliatory attack. This time, he struck lightning-fast, the tips of two-fingers striking Emma just as she launched another punch. Suddenly, her attack froze in mid-delivery, the already-split knuckles barely inches from Ghost's unremarkable face. She stared, mouth agape, as a numbing ache swamped what seemed like every nerve in her body. She tried to move, but found herself locked up in a body-wide muscle cramp. She glared at her opponent, and grated through reluctant jaws, "What... d-did... you... do, a-asshole!?"

"A simple nerve strike, much like the one you saw me use upon that ruffian back at the restaurant. That one had been targeted to drop him right away, while this strike was performed in such a way as to cause the muscles to tighten up and lock limbs into position." Ghost explained, relaxing even as Emma attempted in vain to finish the attack. "I suspect that with the strength of my strike, you'll be stuck like that for some time. Enough time for me to leave, and blend into the shadows. Be grateful that I have tired of bloodshed, and remember that I won't be so merciful next time you should have the misfortune of crossing my path!"

Emma glared at this little pissant and attempted to make her emotions known. In her mind, she screamed a litany of curses so foul that a sailor would quail should they be born to speech. However, her lips could only quiver helplessly, her body still frozen into it's own prison against it's will. Ghost spared her one more disdainful glance before turning, hands in his pockets, and walking away. _That's IT! Big mistake, buddy! No one turns their back on Fury, NO ONE!_

Ghost was nearly to the alleyway which would take him back to the street when suddenly, an arm like a steel cable wrapped around his neck and hoisted him up off of his feet with a strength and power that surprised him. He had no time to attempt a reversal or an escape as he was catapulted painfully into the far wall of the lot. The air was crushed from him in an instant, his body slumping to the ground stunned. Ghost's mind whirled as he saw standing with eyes crazed and nostrils flaring, chest heaving with deep breathes, a most displeased Fury.

"Impossible...!" he rasped, attempting to gain his breathe back. Fury took a few purposeful steps toward the incapacitated former assassin, which became a power walk, then a jog, and evolved into a full-out sprint. Ghost saw what was happening, his eyes bugging in his head as his painfully clear mind told his recovering body to move. With a savage cry, Fury leapt into the air with both feet out first. The dropkick had a lot of momentum and mass behind it, but luckily, Ghost managed to avoid the incoming attack at the very last second. Fury hit the wall like an armor-piercing artillery shell, smashing through the obstruction with little difficulty. Ghost watched from where he crouched on the ground as a cloud of dust wafted up from the gaping hole, wary of movement. _She couldn't possibly survive that!_

As if in response, Fury emerged from the breach at a full run. Ghost swore in surprise, and backflipped away as the enraged young fighter unleashed another barrage of attacks. Ghost performed three such maneuvers, but every time, Fury just got closer and closer. Abandoning that course of action, Ghost launched a counter-offensive. For the second time that night, the two met in head-to-head combat. Fury continued to throw punches, lash with swift kicks, and generally tried her best to inflict as much pain and damage as possible. Ghost wasn't having any of it, though, and it infuriated her to no end the ease with which he redirected her attacks away from him. They had settled into a sort of rhythmic attack, block, and then counterattack pattern that both found hard to break from. It was as if their movements were perfectly in sync, one dedicated to offense and the other just as skillfully bent on defense. The fighting wore on like this for some time, longer than Ghost had ever struggled with other opponents. He was beginning to think, perhaps, that he was too evenly matched with this young assassin-to-be.

Fury was marveling as well at how even the fight was, and had noticed that both her opponent's and her own movements were slowing, ever so slightly. The length of their deadly dance had worn them down. But, neither wished to stop and thus drop their guard. Both now understood the extent of the other's skill and power, and so on they fought.

From atop the buildings encircling the vacant lot, a familiar man in dark business attire stood watching the protracted battle below. With him stood a troop of a dozen men, dressed in night-camouflaged combat gear, their faces obscured by hoods and masks. They were armed with sound-suppressed automatic weaponry, mostly sub-machineguns and pistols. As backup, they also were armed with combat knives and, could fight bare-handed, as well. They stood silent, impassive. The man in the suit watched Fury and Ghost intently, and frowned. He had erred when he had contracted that disgraced wench to fight for his employers. Ghost wasn't dead, battered maybe, but still alive and still very dangerous. He was a match for the fighter, that was sure. It was a fortunate thing that he had procured some insurance. Turning slightly, he spoke to the armed man closest to him. "We're finished waiting."

"What are your orders, sir?" the armed man replied, his manner very disciplined. He stood at a semblance of attention. It was obvious he and his compatriots had some form of quasi-military training.

"Kill the assassin, and tie up our loose end. She's not worth keeping around." the man in the suit replied darkly, smiling ever so slightly.

"But of course, sir." the leader of the troop replied, saluting, "The Long Knife Company shall not fail!"

Back down in the lot, Fury launched a feeble punch, trying to hide just how tired she really was. Ghost knocked it aside weakly, feeling drained as well, but having better success in hiding it. He could tell just how exhausted his opponent was. Seeing as their fight was getting them no where, Ghost decided on an option he had rarely ever had to use in the past. Taking advantage of a lull in the battle, he panted, "Listen... you've proven yourself a fairly decent fighter... how about a truce?"

Fury, likewise short of breathe, grinned and replied, "Say, your not so bad... yourself... for a wimpy lookin' fella., of course... Sure, truce!"

Before anything else could be said between them, the sharp report of weaponry being readied echoed around them. They looked around and saw themselves surrounded on all sides by twelve heavily-armed men wearing dark, night-time urban camouflaged battle gear. All their firearms were trained on them. Fury looked from one to another, fists clenched and a fierce gleam in her eye, "Just who the hell are you punks!?"

None of the twelve answered. From her side, Ghost chuckled humorlessly and replied, "They're mercenary cut-throats. Obviously, those who sent you were not so sure you'd survive the encounter. Typical, very typical. This could only be the work of Zurich."

"How nice of you to remember me, Ghost." A voice called out from above. Both Fury and Ghost looked up to the source and saw the man in the suit standing at the edge of the roof of the building directly across from them. He stood with arms crossed over his chest, smiling triumphantly. Fury swore vehemently, "It's you!"

The man known as Zurich laughed, "Yes, it is I. Why so shocked? You didn't actually think I thought you could defeat Ghost, did you? No, but I could count on the fact that you would do anything to make a few hundred thousand. Your efforts flushed the little bastard out for me, and wore him down too. Not bad, not bad at all!"

Fury grit her teeth. "You... you used me!" Zurich laughed again, "Obviously! Your methods were direct, and they got results. Now, both you and our troublesome assassin are both where I want you. Staring down the barrels of the Long Knives' weaponry!"

Ghost glared up at Zurich, seemingly not at all enraged or worried. "You do know, Zurich, that you won't solve your problems by hiring more greedy thugs. It's a vicious cycle, you know, you'll tire of them and hire another band to kill them, and so on. Maybe the next band will tire of _you_ and kill you, for a change?"

"I'll worry about that later. You should concern yourself with your impending demise! There's no possible way you could avoid so many trained marksmen, Ghost. Even if the brutish girl is ventilated beyond recognition, how will you survive the storm of lead?" Zurich replied, smiling wickedly.

Ghost shrugged, and settled into a battle stance, "That's for me to know, and you to find out minutes before I come up there and beat that arrogant smile off your miserable face!"

Beside him, Fury was livid. "Are you crazy! Those guys have guns, machine guns! You can't dodge a bullet anymore than I can!"

Ghost glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, "Who said I was going to dodge bullets? I've just been waiting for our unknown spectator to join the party!"

Fury looked at him with a puzzled expression, "What?" Ghost carefully indicated what he was talking about with a flick of his eyes. Fury surreptitiously looked, and saw on a nearby rooftop a telltale shadowed form. Someone else was crouched on high, and it seemed they were slowly making their way toward's Zurich position, biding their time before the strike. Fury sighed, and took up her own combat stance. She didn't know what was going to happen, but she figured she'd better just go along with the flow.

"Enough of this idle chatter!" Zurich said at length, "The Long Knives have been quite patient so far, but it is time. Long Knives! Ready your weapons!"

The mercenaries focused more intently their aim. Their fingers moved as one, caressing the triggers of their guns, waiting for the order. Zurich was about to give the word, when suddenly, all hell broke loose. Projectiles, shaped like metal birds with edged wings, shot out of the dark to disarm the Long Knives. With surprised grunts of pain, they dropped their weapons just as small smoke grenades dropped around Fury and Ghost, obscuring them behind a screen of thick grey smoke. Ghost and Fury wasted no time in using the distraction. Ghost dove into the eddying fog and leapt upon an unsuspecting Long Knife mercenary. The man had forwent his gun and had drawn the company's trademark weapon, a long combat knife. He took up a knife-fighter's stance and attempted to jab the young man in the stomach. Ghost sidestepped, snapped the wrist, and then finished him off with a nerve strike designed to temporarily disrupt the nervous system. A second man materialized out of the whirling smoke beside him, gun snapping to his shoulder in the fire position. Ghost whirled, but found it too far a distance to counterattack in time. He was about to accept the deathblow when a fist crunched into the side of the man's helmet, knocking him flying like a rag doll. Fury appeared in his place, rubbing her fist. Ghost could only stare. She returned his gaze, "What? You thought I'd just let him blast ya?"

"Considering the fact that mere moments ago, you were attempting to kill me... yes." Ghost replied dryly.

Fury winced, "Oh... uh, right..." Ghost ignored her unease. She opened her mouth to say something else, but the sudden appearance of two more Long Knife mercenaries cut her short. They charged, knives flashing. Fury and Ghost turned to face their foes. Both were forced to look for an opening for an attack, as the two mercenaries weaved a defensive pattern with their blades. Then, suddenly, one lunged with a slash at chest - height. Fury hopped back, but only so far as to avoid the brunt of the attack. The razor tip still found purchase, cutting a line through her shirt. Ghost retaliated automatically, seeing a vulnerability in the pattern now. He chopped with one hand, catching the attacking mercenary's knife arm at the elbow. There was a loud crack as his attack found the joint's weakness. The man reflexively released the knife and curled his arm to his chest in pain. Ghost struck again, grabbing the other man by his knife-arm as he attempted to thrust. He twisted, turned, and then pulled all in one fluid motion, sending his foe hurtling over his shoulder and into his maimed compatriot before crashing into the ground in one big, painful heap. He turned and saw Fury regarding her front, where her shirt had been torn. "Are you okay?"

"He ruined it! Argh, I can't_ afford _to have my clothes destroyed like this!" Fury fumed, more worried for her clothing than herself. Ghost could have sworn that she should have been bleeding, as the knife had almost certainly been tipped and edged with diamond. He was going to ask something else, but suddenly the smoke cleared. The remainder of the Long Knives had surrounded the mysterious interloper, who turned out to be a young man dressed inconspicuously in dark clothing; black jeans and hooded sweatshirt. He crouched in a defensive stance amidst the mercenaries, then exploded abruptly into action. In a whirling cloud of striking fists and lashing feet, the men around him were cut down like wheat before the scythe. The clatter of dropped weaponry echoed around him, and he slowly stood and relaxed. Sunshades adorned his eyes, and moonlight gleamed off their reflective surface as he turned to regard them.

"Certainly took you long enough." Ghost called to the newcomer, perfectly at ease. It became apparent to Fury that he had known the presence of this one since the fight had begun. She also became aware of the fact that the guy who just defeated those mercenaries on his own, was none other than the pipsqueak who had cowered before her hours earlier! The newcomer hardly looked tired, despite the fight. He had an expression similar to Ghost's, unreadable and opaque. He replied, "You seemed to be holding your own until those thugs showed up. What's this all about, anyway?"

"Nothing that should concern you, who-ever-you are. Is Zurich still around?" Ghost inquired, looking from one nearby rooftop to another.

The newcomer shook his head. "Sorry, he bolted as soon as the fighting started. He's not my problem right now. You two are."

"EXCUSE ME?!" Fury blurted, incredulous. The newcomer glanced at her, said, "You heard me, so you'd better explain yourself."

"I should think all that Zurich said should be more than enough in regards to an explanation. I see no reason in denying it. I'm Ghost, and I used to be a hired assassin." Ghost stated simply, almost casually. As if making a living as a executioner for the highest bidder was all very routine. He jerked a thumb over at where Fury stood, frozen between anger and confusion. "She's the poor pawn sent by my former employers in their attempt to finish me off."

She turned and glared at Ghost, a clenched fist raised to eye-level in a gesture that supposedly was threatening. "My name is Fury, asshole! Remember it!"

The newcomer blinked, "Okay, Ghost and Fury, I think you should come with me." Fury whirled on him, eyes blazing, "And why the hell should we? Who do you think you are, ordering us around like that!?"

Ghost chuckled, a hollow sound, and said with a finality that puzzled her even more, "You foolish girl, can't you see? The one standing before us is none other, than the leader of the infamous Teen Titans, Robin!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Fading**

"WHAT?!" Fury roared, eyes bugging wide. Ghost smirked, but was silent from that point on, standing perfectly at ease and seemingly without a care in the world. The shrimp, or Robin, retained his perfectly unreadable expression. If he was surprised at anything the former assassin had said, he hid it well.

"How... why...?" Fury sputtered, at a loss for words. Finally, she blurted, "Damnit! Just what the hell is going on, here?!"

Robin spoke calmly, and with a subtle tone of authority. "That's what I'd like to know, as I said. Now, that everything is made perfectly clear – and there are no more surprises left to be exposed by Mr. Perceptive over there – I'd like to talk with you both more in depth at the Tower."

"But...!" Fury began, but Ghost motioned with his hand, cutting her off. "We'd be glad too. As I said, I've nothing to hide." He turned to gaze at the fighter beside him, "What of you? Are you going to refuse? Because then if that happens, you'll have to fight him. Plus, his team, too."

Fury growled, clenching her fists and clenching her teeth hard, very hard. She glared at Ghost, glared at Robin, and then turned away from both of them, arms crossed over her chest. "Fine! But, I'm not answering any questions that I don't like."

Robin glared at her, but decided to take what he could get. He motioned for them to follow and they began making their way back to the Titan's abode. They moved swiftly, and soon enough they found themselves standing before the great structure. Robin frowned when he saw that there were lights shining from the main room's windows. He knew he'd be walking into a crossfire. And, sure enough, so it was.

As soon as he led the two rogues into the main room, he found them waiting. Each member of the team had a rather displeased look, ranging from the mildly concerned from Starfire, to the dark glowering look that Raven cast at him. Cyborg, for his part, stood leaning against one wall, arms crossed over his chest. He seemed to know what was about to transpire and had steeled himself for it. Beast Boy was having a hard time staying awake, and he swayed in his seat at the table with drowsiness with his eyes half-lidded. Raven noticed this is the next second, and glared at him some. That woke him up in a big way, and he started to perfect lucidity in an instant. Robin took a deep breathe. _Well, here we go..._

Luckily, it wasn't he who made the first attempt to speak. Rather, it was Fury, who stood behind him and to his left. "Um, just what the hell is going on here?!"

"Nothing that concerns you, just yet." Raven grated, "Well, Robin, what have you gotten yourself into this time? A few nights ago, it was bringing down some crime family. A week before that, intercepting a sleeper cell of industrial terrorists. And, tonight? After you told us you wouldn't be doing something as foolish and reckless again?"

Robin stood there, stoically, and took it. Then, when Raven had finished, he replied, "Well, I didn't do much tonight, for your information. Just prevented a contract killing and then went and further threw a spanner in the works by screwing up the inevitable double-cross, is all."

Raven glared at him all the more, then. Cyborg just shook his head. Robin frowned, "Come on, guys... I can take care of myself! Besides, at least I've been doing some good, lately."

"Robin, being the leader of the team does not mean you can take additional risks like this. This is a _team_, remember? The only time one of us should go solo, is when there is a mission at stake! And then, it should be when there is complete trust and sincerity behind the words spoken." Raven remarked scathingly. She could be especially vile if she truly wished to, and she through plenty of venom behind her words.

The intended barbs did not elude the Titan leader. "Hey, don't throw that at me! Why should my duty be restricted to team missions, anyway? Is it so wrong to go above and beyond?"

"It is when you bring us all into a situation weren't not aware of, yes." Raven snapped, and then added, "You mentioned a contract killing? Let me guess, one of these two lost souls is the killer and the other, the victim?"

"I betcha it's that guy, right there!" Beast Boy said, "He's all dressed in black and stuff, he screams cold-blooded killer!"

Ghost cleared his throat. "Yes, while I don't mind you voicing the obvious, I'm the victim. _She_ tried to kill _me_, not the other way around."

Fury whirled on him. "That didn't stop you from nearly beating the shit outta me in that vacant lot, asshole!"

Ghost regarded her pointedly out of the corner of his eyes. "It's called self-defense, thank you. I think I was warranted it, considering you nearly killed me at least three times."

Fury opened her mouth to retort, but was cut off as Raven said, "Enough! I don't care at the moment who did what to who, or whom tried to kill who how many times... What matters is that our dear leader decides to quit his pointless gallivanting about, and start acting like a leader."

A moment of awkward silence, heavy with the emotion of the situation, hung amongst them now. Raven, and the others to a lesser extent by degree of who was asked, were quite unhappy with Robin. Robin, who saw what he did as a minor transgression, if anything at all that required a reprimanding, was just as stubborn and stiff-necked as ever. Ghost stood with an expressionless look on his face, the light of the room glaring on his glasses and further obscuring his emotions. Fury crossed her arms over her chest and stood, waiting with an impatient shift in her eyes. At length, she couldn't stand it anymore, "Damnit! What the hell are we doin' here, anyway?! I didn't come here to sit in on some stupid drama, did I? Now, either I get a pretty god-damn good reason why I'm standing here, wasting my time, or I'm walking away!"

"My, what patience..." Ghost muttered derisively, loud enough for her to hear. She grit her teeth, but chose otherwise chose to ignore his barb.

"She's gotta point, Rob." Cyborg said, inwardly thankful that he had headed off Raven's mounting counter-tirade, "What's going on?"

Robin seemed pleased to change the course of discussion. He took on a more familiar, leader-like stance and tone as he spoke. "As I said before, I was lucky enough to stop Fury and Ghost from being put six-feet-under by a pack of mercenary killers. I thought there was more to the situation, and I'm sure Ghost would love to fill us in. Isn't that right?"

That last bit had been directed at the former assassin and he quirked an eyebrow ever so slightly. "You want more information?"

"You said you had nothing to hide, if I remember correctly." Robin replied, pointedly. "Yeah, that's right! I'd like to know just who tried to use me as a shooting dummy, too!" Fury added, turning her fiery gaze on Ghost.

"Fine, if that's what you want, I'll tell you as much I know." Ghost said, and then went on. "First things first, yes, I've had quite the successful career as a assassin-for-hire. My most notable contracts were given to me by a cabal of wealthy businessmen and merchants, people who have used all the dirty tricks of their respective trades to line their pockets with money. They call themselves the Guild, and all they care about is their bottom line. One of their said tricks was to hire those who were able, and willing, to kill for cold hard cash. I was one of their many agents. Not so long ago, I had a falling out with the Guild, refused a contract, and disappeared. I had decided to come here, to Jump City, to fade away."

"But, that is impossible now, is it not?" Starfire inquired. Ghost nodded, "Yes, my plans are quite well shot to hell. They now have a pretty general idea where am I, and are probably not willing to let bygones be bygones."

"I don't get it, if you're not working for them anymore... and your not working as an assassin anymore... why do they still care?" Beast Boy said, a quizzical look on his face.

Raven narrowed her eyes at Ghost. "They're afraid of you, aren't they? That's why they want to kill you. Fear."

Ghost laughed, "I suppose you could put it that way. Really, I think they are just feeling vindictive. I might set a bad example for their other hired lackeys, after all. Can't have dissension in the ranks, not when your playing hard and fast like the Guild."

"So, why did they turn to hiring her to come after you?" Robin inquired, fully into detective mode now, "It doesn't make any sense. Unless..."

Ghost nodded, confirming his unspoken theory, "Unless, they want to keep everyone involved expendable, easy to rid themselves of. I suspect that Zurich would have murdered the men who would have killed us, and then swept the whole thing under the rug. After all, dead men tell no tales, eh?"

Fury growled, "In case your forgetting, there wasn't just men involved! Chauvinistic pig..."

Ghost spared her a momentary glance, and then shot back, "I'm surprised you even know the meaning of that word. Your exterior suggests otherwise."

"Wha...?!" Fury was taken aback at his retort, mouth agape as she glared daggers at him. "Why... you...!"

The titans watched as the two of them embroiled themselves in an escalating battle of words and jibes. Beast Boy laughed, enjoying every sling and barb thrown. Cyborg was grinning, too. Starfire looked worried, and Raven put a hand to her forehead, rubbing away the tension that built up at the front of her mind. She couldn't believe what was happening.

Robin, for his part, looked a bit dumbfounded. But, only for a moment. "Anyway, remember that case file we got from the police a while back? The one detailing all the things that have gone wrong in Jump City since that new crime syndicate was rumored to have moved into town?"

"Thinkin' it could possibly be this Guild we've been hearing about?" Cyborg said. Robin nodded, "I've got a feeling the two are related, in some way. I don't like the sound of them operating in the city, anyhow."

"We've no proof that they are operating in the city, Robin." Raven said, "Just the fact that they were hunting a loose end."

"Would you then argue it is not our problem?" Robin retorted. At this, Raven could not reply. She frowned, but otherwise remained silent. Robin took this as a victory for his argument, and smiled slightly.

"Friends, perhaps we should interpose ourselves between our guests? They seem precariously close to exchanging blows." Starfire said, glancing over to where Ghost and Fury kept up their argument, now getting to the point where they were practically shouting in one another's face.

"Whoa, dude..." Beast Boy murmured, watching the display with no small amount of interest.

"Alright, you two, break it up!" Robin cried, coming to stand between them. The two of them backed up, still glaring at each other as if they'd leap to the attack in the next instant.

"What do you want, now?"

"Yeah! Butt the hell out, bird boy!"

Robin resisted the urge to smack them both. "If you two would stop your bickering for one moment, I think we can get this resolved."

"I'm all ears..." the two of them said nigh simultaneously, and then glared at one another. Cyborg and Beast Boy exchanged dubious glances while Raven pinched the bridge of her nose. "In light of the situation, I think it is only fair to inform you that we're officially taking up the case. This... Guild... needs to be put down, and hard."

"Well, isn't that good for you?" Fury replied, in a sickeningly sweet mocking tone. "But, I could care less! Can I go now?"

Robin frowned, "No, not until I say so." Ghost looked at Robin. He sighed, "You want me to help you take down the Guild."

"It's the least you could do, considering what you've done in the past." Raven remarked coldly.

Ghost smirked, and snickered, "You think I give a rat's ass about the past? Hell no! And, for your information, I don't want anything more to do with the Guild. Or you people, you so called Titans..."

Robin's expression hardened at that. "And, what do you suppose you do, then? You said it yourself, they know where you are. And, they're out to kill you. Why wouldn't you want to get them, before they get you?"

Ghost laughed, "They can't kill me. I was their best, and to my knowledge, there is none better. So, while they can try, it won't make any bit of a difference. I guess I'll keep beating their lackeys, till they get fed up and don't send anymore."

Robin sighed, and then said, "Well, if you are going to be unreasonable about it, then I suppose I have to use my ace in the hole..."

"Oh, really? And, what is that, pray tell? Are you going to force me to help you?" Ghost replied.

"That's exactly what I'm going to do." Robin told him plainly, "After all, you are an ex-assassin, who was yet to be served justice. I'm sure the fact that you used to associate with the Guild will come back to haunt you, should you be brought to court."

Silence filled the room. Ghost stared at Robin, who stood resolutely. Then, he scanned the faces of the other titans. Raven returned his gaze with a cold glare. Cyborg, too, tried his best to seem impassive. Beast Boy seemed as if he didn't like the way things were going, but looked as though he would stand with his friends in the end. Starfire seemed the most expressive, her face showing equal parts concern and anxiety. Still, there was no doubt, if it came down to a fight, she'd be doing her part. Still, Ghost played out his defiance. "You wouldn't..."

"Oh, yes we would." Cyborg returned, voice as hard as steel. "We've sworn to protect the city, and we can't protect it from the Guild unless you help."

Ghost grit his teeth, and then sighed in resignation, "Well, if that is the case, I suppose I have no other option."

Fury snickered from where she stood, "Ha, ha! The big bad titans managed to rope you in, you little pansy! Not so high and mighty now, are you?! Are you?! Yeah, that's right!" With that, she turned around and started for the door, "Glad that's over. Time to blow this popsicle stand! Later! Much!"

"You know, we also frown upon attempted murder and conspiracy to commit murder." Robin said, examining the palm of one gloved hand absently. Fury's hand froze over the doorknob. She whirled, livid with anger. And, fear.

"HEY! That's blackmail! Aren't you guys supposed to be heroes, or something!? That's against some code of honor shit, isn't it!? You can't pull me into this! It's not my fight!" she shouted.

"We _are_ heroes, Fury." Robin replied, "And as such, we have duties to see to. You helping to bring down the Guild would go a long way to helping us. Plus, wouldn't it be safer to work with us, considering they're probably out to kill you now?"

The perfect, brutal logic of it all stunned the irate young woman. She hadn't thought of that, in that manner. She really was marked, wasn't she? Damn, she could tell by the sinking feeling in her gut that she already knew the truth. And, she knew, that just like Ghost, she had been expertly roped in.

Robin smirked humorlessly, "So, you see, it _is_ your fight. Don't worry though, as soon as the Guild is brought down, your off the hook." He glanced to Ghost and added, "That same deal goes for you too, by the way."

"Still doesn't make me feel any better." Ghost muttered crossly. Robin didn't reply. He turned and started away. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be outside. Please, hesitate to ask if you need something."

The door shut behind him with a resounding slam. Fury hesitated a few moments, then followed his lead, slamming the door even harder with a very cross expression on her face. As soon as the reverberations had died, Robin sighed wearily, "What have we gotten ourselves into?"

"No, correction... what have _you_ gotten us into." Raven said, "Well, leader? What do we do now?"

Robin dropped himself back into leader mode, saying, "We start our operations against the Guild in earnest. Cyborg, Starfire, and I will start digging up intelligence on the organization. While that is underway, Raven, Beast Boy, you'll have the task of evaluating our new allies."

"Fun..." Raven muttered. Beast Boy laughed uneasily, not daring to make a smart remark as he followed her out the front door. Cyborg started for the main computer, "I'll get on it, right away."

Only Starfire lingered there a moment longer. "Robin? I do not like the way we... persuaded... Ghost and Fury to provide assistance. Could we not have been more civil, perhaps?"

Robin frowned, "I understand your concerns, Star. Still, people like them, like Ghost and Fury... they're looking out for themselves, and only themselves. Think about it, if I didn't approach the matter the way I did, do you think they would have agreed?"

"No, I... I am certain they would have refused." Starfire replied, solemnly. "Do you think you made the right decision?"

Robin scratched the back of his head, and said, "It's better not to second-guess things like that. Still, I sure hope I did..."

Starfire looked at him, looked him in the eyes. "I hope so, as well."


	6. Chapter 6

**Wheels within Wheels Part 1**

A room, empty and black, save a small sphere of light. For a long while, there was no movement and no sound. Then, a door opened and shut, heard more than seen. Footsteps approached the illuminated area. The figure of a man materialized out of the void. He had been one with the dark, his black-on-black field attire and cowl blending perfectly with his surroundings, and stepping into the light made him uncomfortable. He was an assassin, a killer who stalked the shadows and struck while unseen. Being revealed in such a complete manner was anathema to him, the antithesis of his being. However, there was no question, he had to meet his employers in this way. They didn't know he knew, but he knew they were afraid. Afraid to dance with the devil, so to speak. To wield a sword that may cut the master as well as the victim. In a way, he was thrilled to instill fear in men who were so wealthy and thought themselves so powerful. They knew the truth, unescapable by even kings and emperors since time immortal. No matter how much power one thought they had, no one was immune to the subtle ruin brought by the night walker's knife. They knew, but they denied. And, in so denying the truth, they thought themselves above it.

They were the Guild. An amalgamation of bankers, business men, and the elite of the corporate world. They commanded great power on their own, legitimately, but wielded nigh unlimited influence under the table. And, they sought to use their influence for nothing more than their own gain. The assassin smiled under the shadow of his hood, a sneer cold and malicious. In a way, they were not so unlike him. He could respect that.

A long while passed as he stood under the denuding light. He felt their eyes upon him, searching him at a distance of signs of treachery and deceit. For hidden weapons, concealed devices, tricks he might use to harm them. He felt like laughing. How could they hope to find anything? He indeed came equipped to deal death, but they would never see any tools of his trade, until it was their time, should that time come. He supposed the search was to assure them of their own false sense of security and control of the situation. He wanted to say something, anything, to get the meeting underway. He wasn't a patient man when it came to useless meetings. Patience was for the stalking that came before the kill. His fingers ached to close about his chosen weapons, his blood sung and hungered for the shock of power that came with deciding who would live, and who would die a horrible death.

At long last, the half dozen vague outlines who sat just outside of the assassin's range of sight shifted in the manner that told him they were ready. A voice, thin and sharp, called from the form of a man who sat directly before him. "Report."

The assassin bristled inwardly, finding the imperious tone extremely distasteful. He felt his anger build, but he headed it off and forced it away. This was not the time for condescending with these pitiful money grubbers.

"Zurich failed in his directive." he answered, his voice low and almost like a growl. "I have personally reprimanded him for his lack of success."

There was a ripple of uneasy movement amongst the unseen leaders of the Guild. Murmurs as if from far away could be heard, hurried and charged with urgency. A moment later, the spokesman asked, "And what of Ghost?"

"Alive and well." the assassin informed them, matter-of-factly. He savored their reactions as they became even more agitated at the news. They were not pleased, and it pleased him to see them so disturbed.

"This is unacceptable." the speaker declared. "We were assured that the Long Knives under the supervision of your man Zurich would be enough to exorcize Ghost. How is it that he still lives? Explain yourself."

The assassin set his teeth on edge. _The dare accuse me of this ineptitude?! The ignorance!_ He snarled in the sanctuary of his mind. "Zurich's post-action report indicated that there were two primary factors that affected his plans. One, Ghost was more than a match for his hired stooge, and two, there was an unexpected intervention."

"By whom?" the speaker demanded, "The police?"

The assassin gently shook his head. "No, a third individual. There are those in my contingent that believe he may have been Robin. He managed to defeat the majority of the Long Knife mercenaries handily."

A long pause. "Robin?" the speaker echoed, "Do you mean that upstart leader of the vigilante team known as the Teen Titans?"

The assassin nodded. "The one and the same, I assure you. Zurich's report was very clear. This interloper was skilled in ambush tactics, hand-to-hand combat, and wielded the Boy Wonder's signature bird-a-rangs. There can be no doubt."

"A very unfortunate development." the speaker remarked, after much hushed whispering with his peers in the gloom. "How do we proceed? What do you recommend?"

The assassin grinned beneath his hood. This was what he had been waiting for. This was what he excelled at. The plotting of destruction, the formulation of a course of action that would end in some poor fool's untimely demise. He loved it. "Well, this is truly an interesting situation. The Titans are well known for being exceptionally powerful, well-trained, and frustratingly resourceful to the Nth degree. Therefore, it would not be prudent to underestimate them. They pose a challenge, because of their high level of prowess and fame. They're coordination and teamwork will prove to be a most difficult obstacle, but it can be overcome. It will just take time, and a keen sense for opportunity. So, it is with these considerations in mind, that I must humbly suggest we bide our time."

"Bide our time?" the speaker repeated, a slightly incredulous note in his voice. "This is quite unexpected, to say the least. To think, that Revenant, the leader and most proficient member of the Kageryu would be cowed by a pack of unruly children. We thought you would jump at the chance to lay these impertinent youths low."

"Think, before you speak, lest you tempt fate." Revenant snarled, eyes flashing dangerously, "The Kageryu do not fear anyone, or anything. All fall in the glorious embrace of Death! No one is safe from Chill Touch!"

A cautious pause lingered in the aftermath of Revenant's outburst. The unseen members of the Guild's upper echelon were silent. After a minute or two, the speaker spoke again, this time his voice held a note of triumph. "See? That is the attitude we come to expect out of the head of the Kageryu. And, if that dogmatic rhetoric you spew so readily is be believed, that you should have no trouble killing Robin."

The assassin narrowed his eyes. "I thought you wanted a recommendation? This is not what I – "

"Yes, we know. Your... recommendation... was acknowledged, and duly noted. However, we feel that this new course of action is better. More productive, so to say." the speaker replied.

"Elaborate." Revenant snapped, clearly not convinced. Some more muttering took place out of sight, and then the speaker said, "We feel that by decapitating the leadership of the Titans, we can send them a grim message. They will be cowed by the swiftness and efficiency that will strike down their beloved leader. We will make it known that such was the comeuppance for aiding an enemy, and that if they do not aid him further, we will be merciful."

Revenant sneered, and replied, "You actually believe that the Titans will not be prepared for such an eventuality?"

"On the contrary, it is more likely they have protocols in place for such an event. We took that into consideration, and if they do not back down after the death of their first leader, you may keep killing them. In fact, if for some reason you do not manage to slay the famed Boy Wonder, then do away with them all." the speaker remarked. "It would be more beneficial, that way. Then, they won't be a thorn in our side later, when our more long-term plans come to fruition."

"So, you are tasking the Kageryu with destroying the Titans in part, or in whole. Is that it?" the assassin inquired.

"Yes, that is your new contract." the speaker replied without hesitation. "But, do not forget your overarching motivation. We cannot suffer Ghost to live for much longer. He represents a liability. What he knows about our operations could well damn us altogether."

Revenant nodded, feeling very pleased with the arrangements. "Rest assured, I understand completely. We, too, hold an unforgivable grudge against that arrogant whelp. He broke his vows to our cause, presumed to walk away from something greater than him. For his treacherous impertinence and lack of fidelity, he shall die."

"Then, go and make it so. This meeting has come to a close." the speaker intoned, and then was silent. Revenant turned and left the ring of illumination, feeling much better as the darkness of the room swallowed him up in it's shrouding clutches. He left the meeting place where he communed with the Guild. Now, he had new directions, new goals to pursue. The Kageryu would hunt one of their own, it seemed. And now, the Titans had walked blindly into a war in the shadows, a conflict they are ill prepared for. Even now, as Revenant made his unseen way through a moonless twilight, could not help but muse. "All shall fall, yes, even young gods who believe themselves untouchable. So it is our duty, to see that they are graced by the grave's chill grasp, and are thus laid low."


	7. Chapter 7

Fury stood alone on a level practice field. Across the bay, she could see the city rising up into the sky. The waters lapped up against the nearby shore of Titan's Island. It would have been tranquil, a peaceful place. Only, Fury was the antithesis of tranquil. While she appeared relaxed and calm without, within she was a roiling inferno of energy. Her muscles twitched, infintismal movements in her arms and legs, a tick in her left eyelid. Her teeth were clenched, fists balling and opening in spasmodic fits, trying to contain the power within.

From atop a nearby platform, Raven stood and said, "Begin."

The illusion of tranquility and peace was shattered in an instant. Fury exploded into motion as the ground around her erupted. Finally, her warrior's soul could find release. The object of her ire this time was the Titan's Obstacle Course. A series of fixed and mobile automated defenses and other traps situated in such a manner as to provide the potential user an excellent challenge in any aspect of battle readiness. Offensive form, defensive technique, counterattack strategy, evasive maneuvers, you named it and the Obstacle Course could deliver. Presently, Fury ran a gauntlet of laser turret fire, a double-handful of the small, squat devices having sprouted up from subterranean lairs to unleash their electro-static stun bolts. The turrets arched and whined, spitting a jagged bolt here and there, but none seemingly was able to tag the fast moving young woman. None, at first, that is. Suddenly, the turrets zeroed in, their previous shots having only been used to determine a precise firing solution which would allow them to anticipate and lead their target. Bolts started hammering home, slamming Fury about the chest, and stomach with tremendous force. Each blast was set to the highest levels of effectiveness, enough power flowed in them to put a raging pachyderm down in one shot. On anyone else, such a level of power would surely knock them senseless. Against Fury, they were hopelessly outmatched. Fury jolted and winced, taking each bolt head-on, accepting their stinging impact and embracing the pain that engulfed every inch of her nervous system. Her tortured brain screamed for an end to it all, tried to faint out of consciousness so as not to suffer any longer, but her will was too strong even for such well ingrained natural defenses.

Enraged, and thus with her will set forth like a great wall, Fury felt the pain on some intellectual level, but was not beholden to it. Yes, it hurt, but the hurt was only temporary and was something she could ignore. And ignore it, she did. She closed with one turret in a terrific dash, a bestial snarl of triumph and destructive glee as she slammed one fist straight into the barrel of the defensive emplacement just as it was going to fire. The turret exploded, and Fury came charging out of the other side of the rapidly expanding fireball in it's wake. Another turret loomed, blasting relentlessly. Fury slammed that one too, a mighty punch that crumpled armor plating and structural bracing alike. A second punch jarred the turret from it's mountings, and it ceased firing, disabled. On fury ran to the next challenger, unstoppable, unbreakable, and mad as all hell.

Back atop the platform, Beast Boy and Raven observed Fury's display each in their own way. Raven stood by the master control terminal, cool and emotionless as ever. She would periodically reach out a hand from under her cloak to adjust a control now and again, gradually increasing the parameters of the test till they reached their hard-coded limits. She was inwardly not so impressed with the amount of raw emotional energy being radiated off the young woman below them on the field. Actually, such blatant broadcasting was giving her the start of one massive migraine, and she wasn't too happy about that. Still, she had been given a duty, and she was dutiful, amongst her other virtues. Beast Boy, on the other hand, wore his appreciation for the spectacle below with little restraint. He had this stupid grin on his face, eyes dancing with excitement as he mimicked each punch felled by Fury. He was clearly impressed, but then again, it really didn't take much to do that when in regards to the little green animorph.

"Aw man, this is too awesome!" he exclaimed, "I can't believe Cyborg is missing this." Raven sighed, but wisely kept her mouth shut. If she said anything, she feared it would only encourage him. Still, the lack of a response did little to deter his continued babbling. "If she's this good, I wonder how good that other dude is. I mean, how can anyone match up to this without super powers?"

Raven pondered that as well. While clearly Fury possessed better than average strength and tenacity, combined with her rare and unexpected gift for focusing her willpower and mental strength, Raven could never quite pinpoint the strengths of the former assassin, Ghost, or how he could have possibly survived against Fury. He proved to be too much of an enigma, even to her. Of course, if she took a page from Robin's normal role as detective, she could figure out a few things. Ghost was obviously not as strong or tough as Fury, and his small stature and comparatively lean and wiry build emphasized that point. She surmised that he was probably fast. Much faster than Fury, and probably as fast as Robin when it came to reflexes and manual dexterity. She also supposed by the way he acted and spoke that he was probably highly intelligent, and thus might utilize his wits to his advantage. That was nothing new. Robin did such a thing all the time, in the form of his usually brilliant tactics and organization, and also to some degree in the gadgets and devices he regularly used. So, as she brought her thoughts to a close, she had a pretty general idea of the match-up. Fury was all about brute force, power, and momentum. Ghost then had to be all about subtleness, agility, and leverage. That was the only way he could have possibly squared off with Fury and lived, barring cybernetic or mutagenic augmentations, metaphysical abilities or supernatural gifts.

The test fell into it's third series of challenges. Armored combat drones were raised to the practice field by elevators. Humanoid in appearance, covered in silvery armor panels, they didn't hesitate in launching themselves at the rampaging young woman. Fury met their charge head-on, per her style, and before long metallic body parts started flying through the air. Raven quirked an eyebrow. A moment later, the two titans were joined by Ghost, who was now fully decked out in his gear and had his "tools of the trade" with him. The gear was composed of black jumpsuit, over which an armor of lightweight composite materials was worn. Armor encased his hands, and on his forearms there were somewhat oversized gauntlets. His head was shrouded in a black hood, completed with the mask depicting the expressionless, otherworldly visage of a ghost. He watched impassively through the mask's nonreflective black eyepieces at the display of raw force and snorted, voice muffled by the mask. "She's got little sense of grace, poise, or style."

"I wouldn't talk, just yet." Raven told him. "You're up next, shadow boy." Ghost laughed, "Oh goody."

"Dude, take a page outta the Scream movies, huh?" Beast Boy remarked, a wide grin on his face as he motioned at Ghost's obviously familiar mask.

"Are you suggesting you wish to be my first victim, funny guy?" Ghost replied, whirling the hooked, spear-like polearm at his side. "Cause Crowbill, here, will make it real quick and real nasty."

Beast Boy gulped, and hid behind Raven. "N-no! T-that's o-okay... heh." Ghost stood Crowbill at his side, and was silent. A few moments later, Raven powered down the obstacle course command system. Fury, panting and sweating from her exertions, trotted off the field which was strewn with the two dozen carcasses of drones in various steps of dismemberment. She smiled when she saw Ghost standing on the platform with Raven and Beast Boy. "Hey, isn't it a little early for trick or treat?"

"Oh yes, how very witty of you." Ghost sneered in reply, "But, let's save any smack talk until after I give my demonstration."

"You're going to have to be pretty damn extraordinary to show me up, pipsqueak." Fury retorted, arms crossed confidently over her chest. "I'm a tough act to follow!"

"Your ego is surely a factor in that." Ghost snidely remarked, "It's perpetually in the way, being so overinflated."

"Ahem." Raven cleared her throat pointedly, glaring at the two. "Can we get on with this please?"

The two exchanged particularly withering glares, before Fury relinquished the field to Ghost and the latter made ready for the coming ordeal. He whirled his odd weapon, Crowbill by name, by the middle of it's haft. The darkly-painted steel glimmered under the sun. The assassin fell into a ready stance, the weapon tucked along the haft under one arm, the other arm bent at chest level, fist clenched. "Whenever you're ready."

"Here we go again." Raven deadpanned, and toggled on activation switch. Once more, as before, the obstacle course erupted into action. The turrets similar in design and armament sprouted up from the ground and opened up with a blistering barrage. However, Ghost was not there for the energy bolts to land. He had launched himself into a diving roll the second he had sensed motion. The attacks pelted his starting location, but the agile young man had already brought himself into line with the first turret. He hopped up onto it just long enough for the other weapon emplacements to lock on and fire again. At the last second, he jumped. The energy blasts, meant to stun a living organism, overloaded the first gun's capacitors. A malfunction resulted in an explosion, launching the assassin high into the air. Raven, Beast Boy, and Fury watched with rapt attention as Ghost soared up amidst a hail of stun bolts, reached the apex of his ascent, then performed a flip. He plummeted down through the turret fire, Crowbill overhead in two hands, the viciously pointed and hooked blade pointed down. The second turret in line tracked him, firing all the while, only to be pierced at a vital joint in it's armor. It exploded as he dashed away, using Crowbill as a pole vault to cross a stretch of the field in a single bound. He sailed between two more, and they blasted each other as they attempted to track him, bracketing him with explosions.

And on he went, dodging, juking, evading in a series of graceful movements that never wasted any movement. Each maneuver was executed in such a fashion as to bring the agile ex- assassin closer to an enemy, strike suddenly, and then bound away before there were negative repercussions. The turrets were no match, with their blind obedience to firing solutions, sensory input, and simple programming. Ghost flourished against the armored combat drones, too. While generally more mobile and cunning than simple turrets, the drones were still little threat to him. One attacked with a metal-shod fist, and found suddenly, then it was missing it's arm. Ghost reversed Crowbill's momentum, and brought the wicked blade back across in a flash of dark metal. The droid fell, head cloven in two, as more of it's kin charged to the assault. Ghost chose to exercise his fine control of the enemy, and stood his ground against all comers. The drones attacked with every possible assault, fists, elbows, feet, it didn't matter. Ghost hacked, slashed, and thrust with Crowbill, horribly mangling the mechanical onslaught with near impunity.

The drones fell in pieces, leaving Ghost standing where he had chosen to hold his ground, Crowbill at rest over one shoulder. Beast Boy practically exploded, "Oh yeah! That's kickass! He was all like "CHING!" and they were all like..."

Raven, who was more grudging in her respect, silenced him with a glare. Ghost stepped carefully over the pile of ruined parts and off the field. Fury was, in a word, furious. She grit her teeth so hard that she thought perhaps she might crack them. Ghost ignored her and instead spoke to Raven, saying, "Alright, we've shown you what we can do. Now what?"

At the same time as Fury and Ghost were being put through their paces outside, inside the tower, Robin, Starfire, and Cyborg were hard at work. The three heroes were in the main room, where the Tower's Central Computer was situated. Cyborg sat at the massive keyboard, metal fingers tapping at a frenetic pace. The large flatscreen monitor built into one wall of the room flickered and flashed, windows opening and closing, some being set off to the side as part of a growing archive of relevant information was compiled. Robin and Starfire stood nearby, watching as the process took place.

At length, Cyborg ceased his work, and on the screen there were no less than two hundred separate windows, all archived because of their varying levels of connection to the primary search criteria. They all had something to do with the Guild. Robin nodded at the screen, arms folded over his chest, "That's quite an impressive haul."

"I'd say." Cyborg remarked, offhand. "These are the most promising files our search pulled up. There are too many here to read thoroughly, so I'll just have the computer scan, analyze, and summarize the vital information. Should be a snap."

"Do it." Robin said, and Cyborg went to it, once more his fingers a cybernetic blur. The archived windows dissolved, one after another, and a central window was constructed, lines of data and statistics beginning to materialize as the summary was built. Cyborg allowed the computer to finish, and then sat back as the three of them took in the information. The first few lines of the report weren't anything they hadn't heard before. The best sources indicated the same thing that Ghost had told them, that the Guild was a multi-lateral federation of influential power and money brokers with ties in the criminal underworld. A list of suspected members, their corporations, said corporation's assets, their overall estimated worth, and other pertinent information was also displayed. Robin wasn't surprised to see that none of the corporate big-wigs were familiar to him. The report went on to list a number of mercenary or assassins, both individuals and organization, who were reputed, or known, to associate with the Guild. One name was familiar, the Long Knives. But another, placed much higher on the list, wasn't.

"Kageryu..." Starfire murmured, speaking the name aloud. She regarded Robin inquisitively. "Please, what does it mean? I do not believe I have ever encountered such a word in the English language."

"That's because it's not English, Star." Robin replied, the eye slots of his mask narrowing, "It's Japanese, I think."

"You're right." Cyborg remarked, "I ran it through our linguistic matrix, and it translates roughly into "Shadow Dragons", or something like that."

Robin frowned, both somewhat intrigued and alarmed by such an name. "In Japanese culture, the Dragon was thought to be the epitome of natural power, wisdom, and grace. They regard the Dragon almost like a god-figure, even to this day."

"Then, is it not odd that this band of hired murders should name themselves thus?" Starfire queried.

Cyborg rubbed a metal hand over his bald, flesh-and-metal cranium, "Well, if what Rob said was true, then these guys either have a gargantuan case of narcissism, or..."

"They've earned that name." Robin finished the thought. "I think it would be prudent to bank on the latter. In any case, I think it might pay off to look more into this organization. Did any related files pop up?"

"Uh, yeah... one other file." Cyborg replied, leaning forward to tap a single key. A second window opened, displaying the additional information. "Supposedly this report was done by some FBI agents, when the Kageryu first made their debut in the U.S. Of course, the agents were never heard from again, after they completed their investigation."

Robin nodded, silently figuring as much. They read the scant information, and Robin took special note the fact that these "Shadow Dragons" were masters of neo-ninjitsu, the new way of the ancient ninja. "Scroll down a moment, Cy. They mentioned attached member dossiers. That's probably what we're looking for."

"One sec..." Cyborg replied. The screen slowly, steadily scrolled down. Starfire gasped when a familiar face appeared amidst a collection of seven. Cyborg was surprised, too, but none were as much so as Robin. Somehow, he had a hunch such a thing was possible, even probable. Having witnessed Ghost in action, he could easily identify his fighting style as the new-age shadow arts of the ninja. "Well, this definitely puts things into perspective..."

At that moment, the doors to the main room opened and admitted the four who were outside. Ghost froze when he saw his own face, sans his assassin's mask, displayed prominently on the screen. "Oh... shit..."

Some distance away, atop a skyscraper overlooking Jump City Bay, a figure dressed in the usual garb of an assassin crouched like a feral beast upon the ledge. The hunched form was covered in pouches, belts, and compartments. A mask resembling the madly laughing visage of a decaying corpse sat upon it's face under it's black cowl. Resting on it's haunches, one hand to the edge for balance, the other to it's eyes with a high-powered pair of micro-binoculars, the Kageryu member known as Kyonshi, Hopping Corpse, watched with rapt attention the unfolding revelation in the Tower's man room.

Lowering the binoculars, Kyonshi cackled like a madman, hopping around without fear of pitching over the precipice he balanced on. "Oh! This is too good, too good! Brother, you have been found out by your so called comrades. How will you explain to them, the darkness of your past? The blood that was spilled by your hand? Yes, I suppose that will be quite the challenge..." He cackled again, sounding on the verge of insanity.

A beeping sound silenced him abruptly, and he tilted his head. "Eh? What's this?" He produced a small device, the size of his palm, and tapped a button on it's side. "Kyonshi, here. Who calls for me?"

"It is Revenant." a growling reply came, somewhat distorted by static. Kyonshi grew still, out of deference, though his superior was many miles away. "Ah, leader! What is it that you ask of Kyonshi, your loyal servant?"

"I ask for your report, Kyonshi. Have you found our wayward brother?" Revenant replied. Kyonshi nodded, again, though Revenant could not see him. "Yes! Our dear brother roosts with the Titans in their own tower. I believe they have just learned of his past connection with our little clan."

"An interesting fact, but not vital. They would have put two and two together as soon as you made your presence, and your intent, known." Revenant said.

"What are your instructions, great leader?" Kyonshi inquired. A pause, static emanating out of device as he crouched, like a statue of some grotesque gargoyle on the buttressed crenelation of a gothic church.

"My instructions are thus, Kyonshi." Revenant's menacing voice said. "Draw out our wayward brother and his new-found allies. Share with them your gifts, show them the cunning of the Kageryu. Teach them never to defy the Guild so long as they shall live."

"Ah! Leader, you honor me with the first strike!" Kyonshi all but gasped, "I shall deliver them unto the Grave's Chill Touch, and lay our traitorous brother in the hole he has dug for himself."

"Do not be overly impetuous!" Revenant warned him. "Remember, Kyonshi, that you are part of something far greater, far more than just yourself. Should you find the task more than your skills allow, do not refrain from calling for help. Akuma, or Enenra, or perhaps Kijo, would be more than willing to assist you."

"But, leader! That would rob me of the honor." Kyonshi groaned. Revenant growled, "Do not let your madness blind you."

Kyonshi sighed, "Yes, leader..."

"Good. Now, go and do what you must, for the Kageryu." And then, the device was silent. Kyonshi put it away, and raised the binoculars once more to the eye holes of his mask. He fixed the image of the distant traitor in it's magnifying gaze, and cackled once more. "Can you feel it, Brother Ikiryo? The end to the time you spend in this world draws nigh!"


	8. Chapter 8

"When were you going to fill us in?" Ghost sat on the couch in the main room of Titan's Tower, arms crossed over his chest, grateful for his mask as he had a _very _cross expression on his face at that moment. The titans, plus Fury, were all about him. Robin stood before him, not looking too bemused. "Well?" he prompted.

Ghost sat back, arms still crossed, "What would it matter if I told you? I already said I all I deemed necessary. The rest was superfluous."

Robin set his teeth, one fist clenching at his side. Ghost smirked under his mask when he thought he could see an errant vein throbbing in the Boy Wonder's forehead. A quick survey of the other Titan's facial features told him he was in deep, scalding water.

"Listen, Ghost, you may not appreciate the way we enlisted your assistance." Robin said, obviously greatly frustrated with the ex-assassin. "But, keeping information like that from us is a sure fire way to foster some serious doubts!"

At that, Ghost snorted, "Oh, please! As if I care if you trust me or not? Let me clue you in on something. I know for a fact that you probably won't trust me, regardless. It would be foolish, otherwise, wouldn't it?"

"Hey, that's not the point." Cyborg added, from where he stood and glared at Ghost. "You never mentioned that you were part of the Kageryu, and that's something big, man. Real big. It would go towards explaining a lot of things, like who're we're up against."

"I guess we should have expected this from someone like him." Fury put in from where he leaned against one wall, a vicious smirk on her face. "Once a lone wolf, always a lone wolf."

Ghost growled. "We can do without your tidbits of wisdom, thank you."

"She's right, you know." Robin remarked. "You're part of a team now. You'll act as such. Information is a vital resource, one that could determine the effectiveness of our efforts in bringing down the Guild. Your failure to communicate might cost us dearly."

"Hmm, I don't recall asking to join this little party of yours, if memory serves." Ghost replied, snidely. "And, besides that, you're hardly the one to talk about team-work, isn't that right? Once a lone wolf, always a lone wolf?"

Robin opened his mouth to retort sharply, but a glare from Raven made him think twice. "Enough of this useless arguing. Let's move on to more pressing matters, before I pass out from this migraine that's been building." she said, with a voice that told them she would brook no more interruptions, with an expression to match.

"Alright, fine." Robin spat, not happy to let the matter drop so abruptly. "How'd they do out there?"

"Suffice it to say that we've got two new high scores." Raven deadpanned. Beast Boy nodded enthusiastically, "You shoulda seen it! It was so awesome!" He elbowed Robin and said in a conspiratorial tone, "I think you've got competition for resident martial-artist ass-kicker extra ordinaire!"

Robin quirked an eyebrow, "Is that so, eh?" Then he frowned, "That's something for another time. Anyway, it's good to hear you two check out in terms of readiness."

"Was there any doubt?" Fury boasted, polishing her nails haughtily on the front of her shirt.

"About you, maybe." Ghost snapped, too quickly for a rebuttal. Raven glared at him, and he shrugged, "What? I owed her one!"

Robin opened his mouth to say something, and for the second time that day, was cut off. This time, it was the Titan Alert, so he wasn't as pissed as he would have been if it had been a Titan. The klaxons squawked loudly as red lights strobed. Both Ghost and Fury regarded this new development with equally puzzled expressions.

"Trouble!" Robin exclaimed, and led the Titans over to the main computer, where Cyborg took over and called for a satellite map of the city to be displayed onscreen. A blinking red icon had been placed directly over an area of the city. A few keystrokes brought up a preliminary report on the situation. "Looks like somebody's threatening a public bus depot. Details are pretty scant, but we've got multiple sightings of devices that might be explosives."

"Who the hell would want to blow up a bus depot?" Fury wondered aloud. Robin looked up at the computer's screen with an intense expression. "That's what we're going to go and find out."

Ghost stood up from where he had been lounging. "You want for us to come with?" he asked, though he knew it was probably more likely he wouldn't have a choice. Still, it would be wonderful if they could go through with the formality of the inquiry.

"It could be related to the Guild, so yes." Robin replied, already headed for the elevator and the garage below. "Titans, let's go!"

Ghost frowned under his mask. Fury didn't look too pleased either, but at least didn't say anything. For that, the ex-assassin was grateful.

The bus depot was simply a large lot, filled with buses. Dominating the center of the depot was the bus terminal itself. It was in the terminal itself that the depot's staff and those people who usually used the bus were held up. Depot Security had spotted a half dozen squat black boxes set up around the lot, amongst the depots' fleet of buses and had put everyone where they thought it safe. A cautious reconnaissance of one dispelled any doubt in the guard's minds. These things were armed, their beeping regular as if on a timer. Whomever had created and placed the devices had been silent, and swift, to have not aroused any component of the security measures that ringed the depot. So, two calls had gone out. One to the authorities, and one to the Titans.

The authorities showed up first, establishing a perimeter around the depot in it's entirety. Then, the Jump City Police Bomb Squad moved in. Or, they would have, if the Titans had decided to pick that exact moment to show up. Robin road in on his R-cycle with Starfire overhead, flying by her own Tamaranian power. Cyborg drove up in the T-car, with Raven, Beast Boy, Ghost, and Fury along for the ride as well. The back seat had become very snug, with the addition of the two misfits. And, it had made for a veritable pressure cooker, under which both rivals had seethed. Beast Boy, the poor fool, had been caught in the middle. Luckily, nothing had transpired, and everyone was relieved to leave the cramped confines and step out into the city scape. But, not by much.

"What's the situation?" Robin inquired of a nearby police sergeant. The sergeant glanced at the Boy Wonder and the assembled Titans, plus two, and then back at the locked-down depot. "The most curious bomb scare I have ever seen, that's what."

"How so?" Robin prompted, brow furrowing. The sergeant sighed, wearily, and took off his cap to scratch at a bald spot on the very back of his head. "Well, for starters, no one has called in to claim responsibility or place demands. Depot Security was useless in stopping whomever planted these devices from getting in, and then out again, too. They're set up in a circular formation, surrounding the terminal itself. To top it all off, the cursory observations of these devices by Depot Security or our Ordinance Specialists haven't been able to pinpoint exactly what we're dealing with, here. Could be anything, from conventional blasting charges to the really fun stuff – radiological, biological, chemical..."

"How many innocent souls are present?" Starfire asked, her hands clasped before her. Her eyes gleamed with worry and compassion, gazing toward the terminal and the frightened, huddled figures visible through the large windows of the building.

"Oh, I'd place an estimate around eight hundred, maybe more, maybe less." the sergeant replied. "Whomever decided to do this picked a good time. The morning commute rush just started five minutes ago, and the terminal was beginning to load up fast."

"A very obvious, and tempting, target." Raven remarked. Robin frowned, the possibilities of this being a pre-meditated incident sending his detective's mind into overdrive. "This was probably a well-thought out plan. That bars small-time, petty criminals. They wouldn't have the guts, patience, or coordination. Any ideas on who did this, sergeant?"

"Well, honestly, talk about the department was that it might possibly be Slade." the sergeant replied, looking uneasy. "But, we'd figured you would now better."

"Dude, this is _so_ a Slade thing!" Beast Boy asserted, a troubled look on his face. "He'd definitely go for innocent people like this, all unsuspecting and stuff."

"Slade?" Ghost echoed, "Why does that name sound familiar...?" Fury snorted, glancing away indifferently, "Probably worked for the bum, asshole."

Raven and Robin glared at the two to forestall the argument from escalating further. The sergeant squinted at the two unknowns, "And, just who the hell are they?"

"Helping hands." Robin answered simply, as if those two words could quell all the possible inquiries. Yet, the sergeant scratched his bald spot again, and asked, "You mean, like trainees, or interns, or something?"

"Uh, yeah... something like that." Robin replied, confirming the convenient half-truth, "But, let's focus, sergeant. This may or may not be Slade, yet we need to know if anyone else may have been behind it."

"How about anyone connected to something called the Guild?" Cyborg added. The sergeant thought long and hard. At length, he shook his head, "Sorry, doesn't bring anyone to mind. The Guild, you say? Is that some new dark organization?"

"Nevermind that, now, sergeant." Robin told him, skillfully avoiding the question. "We've stood around and talked long enough. We've got innocent commuters stuck in a bus depot that may or may not be wired to blow sky-high."

The sergeant nodded, "Right. We've both got jobs to do. Let's get to it." The sergeant walked off to continue his supervision of the police forces. Robin turned to the assembled team, plus two. "Alright, team. Let's start off by getting a better look at these devices. We need to know the nature of the beast, before we can do anything. Cyborg, you take point. I want a broad-spectrum analysis of their structural composition."

Cyborg nodded, expression and tone business-like. "Right." The titans passed through the police perimeter and entered the depot proper. Weaving carefully through the many buses, with Cyborg in the lead with sensors turned up to the highest setting, they approached. The device, a squat little black thing shaped not quite like a box, but like some sort of geometric thing. It started off wide at the bottom, tapering to a pointed top. Cyborg frowned, tapping at his onboard miniature computer, housed in the armor of his right forearm. "Hmm, seems pretty standard on the outside. Ceramic composite casing, lightweight yet durable for transport. The yield is probably standard commercial demolition charges. I'm guessing between fifty and sixty tons of high-explosive dynamite."

"That is enough explosive power to completely erase any evidence of this transportation hub's existence." Starfire grimly noted. Robin nodded, solemnly, "And, this isn't the only one. Cyborg, download the information you gleaned from this device to the communicators. Let's check and see if the other devices are similarly constructed."

"Thinking perhaps only one of the devices is the real threat?" Raven inquired. "It's possible. That, and I'd like to know if there's a chance that each device has it's own specialized payload, or if they're all outfitted the same."

Ghost raised a hand at that moment, saying, "Excuse me, but may I make a small suggestion?"

Robin, and for that matter, the other titans, glared at him. "Thank you. Now that I have your attention, I just have to point out the fact that we may be under surveillance."

"You think the perp may still be hangin' around?" Cyborg inquired, not sounding the least bit convinced.

"Sure. Think about it, here we are concentrating our attention on these devices. While we worry ourselves into a tizzy, our real target is biding it's time." Ghost explained. "It's elementary tactics. Provide your enemy with a decoy, and when said enemy is busy, divide and conqueror. I'm willing to bet that we're under someone's watchful gaze."

"What do you propose we do, then, friend Ghost?" Starfire inquired. "Ignore these obviously dangerous objects, in favor of this observer?"

"Not entirely. I was thinking that _I_ could hunt down the responsible party." Ghost replied, "He'll be too busy watching for the Titans, that he won't see me sneaking up on him."

Robin smirked, warming up to the idea as he turned it over and over again quickly in his mind. "That makes sense. Not bad, Ghost. See, it isn't so bad helping out, is it?"

Ghost snorted, "Let's not push it, alright?"

"Fine." Robin relented, obviously enjoying himself despite the gravity of the situation. "But, take Fury with you." Aside, Fury pumped a fist in victory. She had been getting bored, and though she'd rather not have to go with that annoying smart-ass, she'd welcome any change of pace lest she go out of her mind.

Ghost, who had started to walk away, froze in mid-step. He turned, glaring at the titan leader. "Your kidding..."

"No." Robin replied, any hint of jocularity gone. "I'm not. You may run into more than you can handle. She's your back-up. Got it?"

Ghost looked forlornly to where Fury stood, hands clasped behind her head, trying not to look too smug. He sighed, and drooped his cowled head. "Fine..."

The titans were indeed being watched. From a nearby high-rise, Kyonshi crouched and watched them closely through his binoculars. He had been observing the depot since he had planted his creations. Now, he watched with barely restrained glee as the cautious children approached his ingenious toys. Only, he then spotted the traitor, Ikiryo, standing in their midst. Kyonshi's temperament changed drastically, and he gnashed his teeth furiously, muttering and spitting curses.

"Treacherous snake! I'll get you, yet!" he hissed, the fingers of his empty hand writhing and clenching seemingly of their own accord. Then, he was intrigued to see that the traitor and one other broke away from the rest. Surprised, and more than a little curious, he followed their progress. At first, he couldn't wrap his twisted mind around what possible purpose they could be serving. But then he realized, that where Ikiryo was concerned, he needn't guess. Once again his temperament shifted in an instant, and again he was positively bubbling over with manic delight. "Time for the mongoose to make his appearance!"

_Miserable little punk_. Ghost muttered in the quiet sanctuary of his mind. _I knew there was a reason why I didn't go legit for so long. They're complete assholes._ He was attempting to be as stealthy and observant as one can be when one is forced to work with someone else so...

What was the word for it?

Oh yeah, clumsy.

It was like Fury was _trying_ to be as noticeable and as conspicuous as possible. Clumping around in her huge workboots, walking carelessly in the open, without considering the notion of an ambuscade. Meanwhile, Ghost was trying to make like his namesake and disappear. Such a thing was not easy when in broad daylight, but he could do it. Such a thing was made doubly difficult by wearing field gear decked out all in deep black, with hints of grey, but still skill could make up for it. And, certainly, such a thing was nigh _impossible_ with a partner who neither knew the underlying concepts of stealth, nor cared to even emulate them when given suggestions.

Even now, as Ghost moved with careful grace around the extreme edges of the depot, Fury was several steps behind him, hands still clasped behind her head, fingers interlaced, eyes lofted skyward. She was whistling. _Whistling_...

Ghost stopped, taking cover behind the backside of one bus. "Hey, ya mind not being so... noticeable?"

Fury stopped whistling, mercifully, and looked at the ex-assassin with a wry smirk. "Well, your pretty good lookin' too, in your own scary-mask-wearin-freak sorta style. Ya know, with all the tight black armor and skin-hugging material..."

Ghost sighed, exasperated. "That's not what I meant, and you know it." Fury stretched, extending her arms out behind her head, fingers still interlocked, causing the muscles of her arms to stand out. Several joints popped and creaked, and she groaned appreciatively. "Yeah, I know. Just kiddin' with ya, is all. Man, shoulda known you assassin-types would be so uptight."

"Only when working with oafish brutes, who should really be carrying around a sign that says 'Hey! Idiot right here!'" Ghost retorted, sneering.

Just as quick, Ghost had a clenched fist in his masked face. "Wanna say that again, punk?" Fury growled, not looking at all happy.

"Oh please, you gonna threaten me now?" Ghost said, and Fury imagined him rolling his eyes under that damn mask of his. His nonchalance was beginning to irk her, considering she knew they both knew his head could become mush. That is, if he stayed put. She was thinking of saying something in the form of a biting retort when she noticed, or thought she noticed, Ghost looking at something beyond her, over her left shoulder. She was about to ask him what, exactly, when he swore and shoved her to the side. Normally, she would have dug her heels in, shrugged him off, and then backhanded him for daring to touch her without her express permission. But, since she hadn't expected it, she stumbled backwards one, two steps and fell to her backside. Again, she would have normally began cursing and berating the little spook with all her ire, but she watched as if in slow motion as Ghost dodged as well. A dart, or to be more precise, a knife had passed through the space where they had only moments before stood, embedding itself in the bus's aluminum siding with a metallic click.

"You alright?!" Ghost called from where he had landed in a balanced crouch, several feet to the left of their starting position.

"Aside from a sore ass, yeah... just peachy!" Fury spat, grimacing in discomfort. "What the hell gives, anyway?!"

As if in reply, the air filled with a lunatic's laughter, a cacophony of mad chortles, giggles, and chuckles. A hunched form, face obscured by a grotesque corpse mask, hopped up on the bus opposite them, crouching and skittering this way or that like an insect. "That was a gift from none other than I, Kyonshi!"

"Who... the HELL are you?!" Fury exclaimed, both confused and somewhat unsettled by the way this stranger moved.

"Oh, no... not this moron..." Ghost muttered, off to the side. Kyonshi stopped his hoping long enough to point with an accusing finger at the ex-assassin, his tone turning absolutely murderous. "Traitor! You are not worthy of life, glorious, maddening life. The life that was a lie you lived, and threw in our face!"

"Wait... you KNOW this freak?" Fury inquired, surprised. She blinked, then added casually, "Well, I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"Yes, yes... You learned much." Kyonshi said, from where he perched, "But, only those who have taken the oath of the Kageryu can know it's fullest mysteries! Such sacred tenets should not be breathed to the air where one such as you could hear. And, they should not be held in the black heart of a fork-tongued, two-faced serpent such as you, Brother Ikiryo!"

"Ikiryo?" Fury echoed, making a face. Ghost ignored her quizzical look in his direction. "Who are you to speak to me of such things as treachery, eh? Are we not assassins, who fight without honorably?"

Kyonshi seemed to recoil in disgust, so affronted as he by what Ghost had said. "Bah! The Kageryu care not for honor in battle. Honor has no place in the great contest of life or death. But, the honor of clanship, that is most sacred... no insolence can be tolerated!"

"So, that is the case. Let me guess, you're here to kill us." Ghost reasoned. Kyonshi cocked his head to the side, "Yes, that is my mission. You two must die, but also, so must your foolish comrades-in-arms."

This was just unexpected enough to give even Ghost pause. "Wait a minute..." His posture changed, and even though Fury could not see his face, she knew he had dawned upon an unpleasant revelation. Kyonshi knew this, too, and didn't allow for a moment of decision. With a crazed battle-cry, the deadly assassin attacked. He leapt towards them, and as he drifted in mid-air, swept his arm sharply from left to right in front of him. There was a cascading flash of metal, a flurry of throwing knives had been loosed. Ghost evaded, while Fury summoned her will. The knives headed for Ghost clicked impotently against concrete and bus siding. The knives meant for Fury, simply bounced off her arms as she brought them up to shield herself. Kyonshi landed in a feral crouch before her, on his haunches leaning forward. He contorted himself, and lashed out impossibly high with a foot. The blow caught her unawares through her defense, smashing up into her stomach in such a manner as to compress her diaphragm most violently, blasting the air from her lungs. Stunned, she was left open for Kyonshi to whirl, contort himself again in a most impossible manner so that he now could balance himself on his hands, and kick straight up to connect with her chin with both feet. Fury reeled, retching for air and battling the pain in her head. Ghost counterattacked, Crowbill swirling and then striking like a deadly bird of prey. The hooked blade flashed through the air, barely missing it's intended target as Kyonshi evaded the attack. Again, and again, Ghost would slash or thrust, and each time Kyonshi would weave and bob. Suddenly, Crowbill was deflected, and there appeared on Kyonshi's wrist a serrated blade, curving out from the gauntlet he wore as part of his own gear. Ghost, caught unawares, was forced back on the defensive, as the insane contortionist flexed and warped himself in unpredictable ways, slashing with that wicked wrist-dagger or attempting to kick. Ghost dodged, backpedaled, and blocked in a rapid succession, driving Crowbill down and to the right to pin Kyonshi's weapon to the ground.

Just in time for a very enraged Fury to recover, and deliver a satisfying right straight punch to his face. "RRRAAAUUGGGHH!"

Kyonshi accepted the blow, his head snapping back. A savage blow with the flat of Crowbill's vicious blade slammed it to the side, and Kyonshi followed the momentum of the attack and allowed it to carry him in a roll to the side. This maneuver allowed him to plant another devastating kick in Fury's chest, staggering her back a half-dozen steps. Regaining his feet, Kyonshi was prepared to counter the predictable set of attacks from Ghost, who had worked Crowbill back up and out, slashing and thrusting, seeking purchase in his foe. Kyonshi blocked once, twice, and then twisted his wrist-dagger as Crowbill thrust straight ahead, catching the polearm by it's wicked teeth. Ghost swore as the maniac tore the weapon down, then jumped up on the extremely sturdy haft to launch himself up and then back down with a powerful jump-kick. The blow twisted his head sharply, and loosened his grip on his weapon. Kyonshi took advantage of this, and disarmed him handily with a flick of his wrist. Crowbill sailed up and away from it's master, landing with a dull clatter some thirty yards away. A punch threw Ghost's head the other way, and then an open-handed palm strike doubled him over. Cackling with delight, Kyonshi blasted Ghost with a rigid-hand chop to the back of the neck. Ghost slumped, feeling his body betray him and give up as his nervous system reeled in shock. It would have been the end for him, too, as Kyonshi raised his wrist-dagger high above him, preparing for a fatal blow.

Except, Fury had recovered again, and was even more pissed than before. "ASSHOLE!" she shrieked, sailing back into the fray with one fist cocked back, a rictus of pure anger distorting her face. At first, Kyonshi attacked back, head-on, swinging with his wrist-dagger. The blade met her incoming fist and shattered on impact, not even leaving so much as a scratch. Surprised, Kyonshi attempted to dodge, but found that Fury meant to go on a rampage. She kept coming, left, right, left, right, left again. He dodged all but the last one, her determined attack moving fast and hard but in way that left him but one predictable route of escape. Thus trapped, Kyonshi was launched up and back in a barrel-roll twist. He landed heavily, his body rolling upon impact, coming to a stop stomach-down on the ground.

Fury stood over the unmoving form of Ghost, panting, basking in the livid passions that welled up inside of her. She stared at Kyonshi, daring him to move. Finding him to be out of it for the moment, she relaxed. She toed Ghost in the side. "Hey?"

Ghost stirred, "Ugh..."

"Hey!" Fury dug the toe of her right boot into his side harder, and was rewarded with a curse as Ghost struggled back to his feet. "Sonuvabitch used a damned nerve strike on me." he muttered, one hand rubbing the back of his neck, wincing.

"Yeah, he nearly had you, too." Fury told him, "And, if it weren't for me... you'd be pushing up daisies!"

Ghost grimaced, "Don't rub it in..." He looked around. "By the way, where did he go?" Fury laughed, "Whaddaya mean 'where'd he go'?"

Ghost glared at her. "Just that... where'd he go?" Fury thumbed over her shoulder, "He should be in a heap back there."

"Hate to disappoint you, but you might want to look again." Ghost told her. "He's not there." Fury growled, turned, and felt her stomach sink. Sure enough, Kyonshi was gone, leaving only the fragments of his destroyed weapon behind.

Fury hung her head. "Damn..."

At the same time, the Titans found themselves on the receiving end of a surprise attack. The 'bombs' turned out to be cunningly designed, perfectly concealed assassin drones. Each device sprouted a trio of articulated legs, lifting themselves up using the legs in a tripod formation. The armored carapaces split open, and dozens of tentacle-like appendages festooned out. Some ended in tasers, others in electrodes that projected electro-static bolts. Two reinforced tentacles were tipped with vicious, three-digit claws.

"This doesn't look good." Raven deadpanned, as the Titans formed up into a circular formation, surrounded on all sides by the deployed machines.

"Friend Raven is correct." Starfire added, readying a pair of starbolts. Her face was etched with equal parts determination and worry, "This situation does not bode well for us, I fear. I wonder if friends Fury and Ghost are fairing better."

"We can't worry about them, now!" Robin remarked, a fan of bird-a-rangs in one hand, his extending bo-staff in the other. "We've got to look out for ourselves!"

"Shoulda known this was going to happen." Cyborg muttered, steadying his aim with his right arm turned sonic disruptor. Beast Boy, who crouched nearby, snorted, "Dude, I don't think it would have mattered."

Everyone silently affirmed to that notion. It seemed like they were forever falling for traps and ambushes. But, the thing that stood out about this instance from all the others, was that these machines didn't look like your garden variety minion. The machines skittered around them, circling like buzzards around a pack of soon-to-be carcasses. Robin gritted his teeth, his grip on his weapons tightening. "What are they waiting for?"

"They're waiting for me, dear child." an unfamiliar voice replied. The titans looked and saw a crouched form observing them from the roof of the depot terminal. He looked battered, and his corpse-face mask was cracked. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Kyonshi, of the Kageryu."

"We know all about you and your kind." Starfire replied, eyes glowing a hot emerald. "Monsters!"

Kyonshi laughed. "Your insults are but a pinprick to the side of a mighty dragon, girl! The derision of the dead does not harm the living."

"We're not dead yet, and we ain't plannin' on being dead any time soon!" Cyborg called to the assassin. Kyonshi cocked his head to the side, "We shall see, won't we? These minions are gifts from my clan. I hope they shall make your final moments in this world quite... interesting." With that, he snapped his fingers. The machines ceased their circuitous pacing and lurched to the attack, skittering forward with weapon-tipped arms at the ready.

Launching forward even as the battle was joined, Robin cried, "Titans, go!"


End file.
